


Trick or Die

by sweetlullabies



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Blood, Bullying, Cats, Eccentric Louis, Halloween, M/M, Quiet Harry, Spirits, Vampire Harry, Violence, autumn and october and all those good feels, liam is a spirit, or a ghost or whatever you wanna call it, spells, well at first, yay a themed fic i know right
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-24
Updated: 2017-10-27
Packaged: 2019-01-22 06:48:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 39,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12475796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetlullabies/pseuds/sweetlullabies
Summary: “Is that blood on your face?” Louis asks, not even thinking before reaching out and ghosting one of his thumbs over Harry’s chin.  He’s not even aware that he’s full on squatting in front of this boy, observing him like a scientist in a laboratory.  Louis is just a very curious person, that’s all.  “What happened?”Harry quickly wipes his face with his sleeve, causing the contact between his skin and Louis’ thumb to become broken.“I fell,” he mumbles, looking down at his lap and furrowing his eyebrows, as though this whole encounter is frustrating him.Louis remains exactly where he is, trying his best to study this boy and figure out why exactly he’s hiding in some bushes in the middle of the night, as well as why he’s pretending that he’s not that boy in Louis’ class even though Louis knows he is.the best time of year quickly turns into the worst for Louis once he gets himself involved with things—or supernatural beings, he shouldn't mess with.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hello
> 
> this is just a cute halloween fic i randomly thought about and decided to write faster than i've ever written anything in my life. contrary to how it may seem with the way i portray liam in this fic, i do not hate liam. i actually love him very much. i can admit he is extremely dislikable in this fic. he's also not alive, because he is a spirit all throughout this story. you will not see his death, and you will barely even hear of it. 
> 
> also, i'm not an expert on the supernatural and really came up with a bunch of my own stuff, which is totally allowed in the world of fiction. i don't actually know what gets rid of ghosts and i created my own idea of what vampires are like. i hope that doesn't bother you!
> 
> with that being said, i hope you enjoy this fic and it helps you get into the halloweenie mood :*)

 

 

Louis’ eyes scan over the page he’s reading as he grips at the corner of it.  He rereads the words for probably the hundredth time, making sure he understands all that it says so that he can finally get this right and obtain _some_ kind of result out of it for once.

He picks up his compass off of his desk and rolls his chair back a few feet, knitting his eyebrows together and trying to figure out which way is north as he rotates.  He feels his black Bombay cat, which he’d proudly named Olive, scurry over his feet.

Once Louis’ certain he has a pretty good understanding of which way is north, he gets up from his chair, grabbing his spell book off of his desk where it’s laid open next to some of his voodoo dolls, and he moves over to one of his windows, preparing to open it.

Everything has to be exactly right in order for this to work.

Olive begins to make loud, eerie whining sounds as she continues to shuffle around his room.

“Olive, you have to be completely quiet for this,” Louis says as he tucks his book under his arm and moves the dark curtains over his windows to the side.  “I can’t have any distractions.”

With much difficulty and a thick grunt, Louis gets the window to slide open, allowing the cool October breeze to flood into his room.  It’s dark outside, probably because it’s nearing ten p.m., which is absolutely perfect in order for Louis to succeed in summoning this spirit.

Louis moves to sit down on his rug, keeping his book in his lap and positioning himself so that he faces north, and he can feel the air coming from the window on the back of his neck. 

He slowly opens the book once again as Olive attempts to climb into his lap, and he makes sure that he’s followed all of the directions necessary.  He looks over the chant he’s supposed to recite one more time, before deciding that he’s ready.

He claps his hands twice, and all of the lights in his room shut off.  He’s sat there in pitch black quietness, only the occasional hums of the wind accompanying him.

Louis takes a deep breath as he closes his eyes.  Olive has finally gone still where she’s curled up on top of his thighs.

“Okay,” Louis starts, his voice soft.  “Spirits of the night, I beseech you. Find favor with my call and summons, on the seven winds I beg you travel, and greet me in my presence _.”_

There, just like he’d practiced it.

Louis holds his breath for a few moments as he closes his eyes, and then, all at once, he exhales and opens them.

He waits…and?

Nothing.

The fifth night in a row where Louis has used one of the chants from this crappy spell book to summon a spirit and absolutely _nothing_ has happened.

With a huff, Louis claps his hands again and his room is once again brightened.

That’s what he gets for thinking a spell book he’d gotten on clearance at the thrift store actually had some sort of value.  Everyone knows the _real_ ones are expensive and hard to find.

Louis tosses the book to the side and brings his hand down in order to solemnly stroke at Olive’s dark fur. 

“Guess the fifth time’s _not_ the charm, huh Olive?” Louis asks, and Olive purrs in response.

As an afterthought, Louis moves to stand up, gathering Olive into his arms.  “C’mon.  Let’s go look at the moon.  Don’t want this night to _completely_ go to waste.”

Olive seems to agree as Louis leaves his bedroom and tippy toes his way through the silent, dark house, headed toward the front door.  They end up outside, rested on top of the front door steps as Louis’ eyes sparkle at the night sky.

They remain quiet for quite a while, Louis allowing himself to be in the moment and bathe in the gleam of the moonlight.  He’s still discouraged though.  He’d really been hoping to get lucky tonight.

Louis sighs as he places his head on his fist.  “Why aren’t normal, _alive_ people fascinating enough?” he asks as he flicks at a pebble sitting on one of the steps.

Suddenly, with absolutely no warning, Olive is leaping down the steps and scurrying off, as though Louis hadn’t even been speaking to her.  She seems to be going pretty far, which prompts Louis to become alarmed as he actually gets up with intent to catch up to her and scold her for running away.

“Olive, stop this,” Louis says with a huff as he finds himself power walking down the neighborhood sidewalk in order to catch up to his stubborn pet.  She seems to be going faster, and it’s almost as though she’s chasing something.  Her actively running away from Louis like this is more than out of character, so it genuinely starts to concern him a bit.

Louis’ pretty far away from his house at this point, and Olive seems to finally come to a stop as they near some bushes.  She’s absolutely _growling_ , hissing, and clawing at the air toward what Louis is pretty sure is a simple shrub.  Louis slows his steps down as he approaches, seriously becoming worried.

He crouches down and scoops her up into his arms with much difficulty.  “Olive, what on earth…“

Louis’ sentence comes to an unorganized end, because.  There’s a person there.

They’re sitting somewhat hidden behind the shadows of the bushes, and it quickly becomes clear that this is who Olive had been snapping at.  Louis can hardly see who this person is, because they have a dark hoodie on and over their head, and their face is covered by shadows and the leaves of the bushes they’re half-hiding themselves in.  This person almost looks like a frightened puppy.

“I’m sorry…my cat—she doesn’t usually…” Louis starts, before leaning forward a bit (he’s never been an avid understander of this thing called ‘personal space’).  “ _Hey…_ ” Louis starts, eyes widening as he continues to look more closely at this person’s face.  “You’re that _guy_.  From school.”

The guy seems to shy away even more as he immediately shakes his head.  “No, I-I’m not—“

“Yes, you are,” Louis says with a tiny laugh.  Olive leaps out of his arms as Louis gets closer, as though she’s terrified of even being near this boy.  “You’re that kid that sits in the back of my English class,” Louis continues, before his memory is jogged.  “Harry.”

He continues to shake his head, and he turns his face just enough for a sliver of moonlight to grace it, if only for a few seconds.  There’s dried blood on his cheek and along the frame of his chin.

“You, um… you probably have me mixed up with someone else—“

“Is that blood on your face?” Louis asks, not even thinking before reaching out and ghosting one of his thumbs over Harry’s chin.  He’s not even aware that he’s full on squatting in front of this boy, observing him like a scientist in a laboratory.  Louis is just a very curious person, that’s all.  “What happened?”

Harry quickly wipes his face with his sleeve, causing the contact between his skin and Louis’ thumb to become broken. 

“I fell,” he mumbles, looking down at his lap and furrowing his eyebrows, as though this whole encounter is frustrating him.

Louis remains exactly where he is, trying his best to study this boy and figure out why exactly he’s hiding in some bushes in the middle of the night, as well as why he’s pretending that he’s not that boy in Louis’ class even though Louis knows he is.

Then, Louis remembers Olive, and he stands up and turns around in order to make sure she hasn’t gotten away.  She’s several feet behind now, but fortunately, she’s still near enough. 

Louis walks over to invite her into his arms as he speaks.  “I don’t know if I believe that, Harry.”  He stands up, Olive continuing to act strange as he holds her.  “If someone’s beating you up or if you’re afraid to say what _actually_ happened, you can always talk to…” Louis starts, turning back around to where Harry once was.

He’s gone.

“…me,” Louis finishes, looking around with a raised eyebrow as he continues to stroke Olive’s fur.

 

~*~

 

Louis’ proud of the fact that he’s hardly broken a sweat by the time he’s beginning to near the school grounds.  He’d chosen to ride his bicycle this morning, which is sometimes a chore, but Louis thinks it’s better than catching the school bus, or even worse, carpooling with Niall and having to endure his life-threatening driving tendencies.

Louis also loves taking the shortcut to school that he’d discovered long ago.  It’s an amazing, secret path through the woods that Louis enjoys riding through, because it always gives him this feeling of being secluded from the world, with nothing but the turning wheels of his bike and the gusting of the wind through his hair to soothe him.  He also loves the eerie feeling of it; he could scream and no one would hear.  It’s amazing.

Louis knows he’s nearing his school when he starts to hear the general hum of kids and the honking of cars as he approaches the end of the trail where the woods leads him to where he needs to be.  Louis pedals until he’s out of the trees, and there’s nothing but brownish grass and leaves under his wheels.  He finally comes to a slow stop, just on the outskirts of the school grounds as he dreads yet another day of this.

He slides off of his bike, intent to lock it up somewhere—or maybe he could even just leave it on the ground.  Absolutely _no one_ at this school has a reason or desire to steal a bike, since having one is considered lame anyway.

Louis continues to stand there for a moment, watching as loads of people get off of the school buses and friends meet up on the front steps and teachers get out of their parked cars.

Something feels _off_.

Louis can’t quite put his finger on it, but there’s this weird sort of… _aura_ beginning to manifest.  It’s almost off-putting.

Louis’ hand grips one of the handles on his bike as he tries to ignore the slight pang of the autumn air, and his body is growing increasingly tense.

Suddenly, the breath gets snatched out of him when he’s practically _jumped_ on from the side, almost getting tackled to the ground.

 _“Zayn!”_ Louis yells, shoving the boy back as he laughs at the fact that Louis just had a mini heart attack.

“You should’ve seen the look on your face!” Zayn exclaims, nearly doubled over in laughter as Louis scowls.

Louis crosses his arms.  “That’s not funny, Zayn.  You scared me.”

Zayn comes up to Louis, patting at his shoulder as he attempts to comfort him.  His hands are gloved, and he’s got on his lightweight navy jacket that Louis feels does absolutely nothing for the cold.

“C’mon, you’re fine,” Zayn says.

Louis shakes his head at him before walking toward the school, leaving his bike behind from where it’d fallen once Zayn had frightened the shit out of him.

“I thought you were into that scary shit,” Zayn says as he follows behind.  “Like, don’t you have a ghost kink, or something?”

Louis rolls his eyes as he turns to look at Zayn.  “It’s not a _kink_ , okay?  It’s a fascination.”

“Sure it is…” Zayn starts, before gripping Louis on either of his shoulders and prompting the boy to turn and face him.  “Wanna go and scare Niall?”

Louis hates the fact that his lips slightly twitch upward in response to that.  It _does_ make sense that after having it done to him, he deserves the opportunity to do it to someone else, right?

They spot Niall sitting in his car in the parking lot, feet kicked up on the dash as he sucks on a cigarette and allows the smoke to flow out of the open window.

It doesn’t go well when they creep up on him.

He actually punches Zayn on instinct, and the blonde boy ends up apologizing a thousand times while shoving napkins up Zayn’s nose in order to get it to stop bleeding.

Louis’ in the middle of caressing the back of Zayn’s head and making sure he keeps it tilted back when he sees him.

Not just any him, but _him_.

He’s walking, that same hoodie over his head as he strides up the front steps of the school and towards the entrance.  To any other person, he would’ve blended right in with the other students casually strolling into the school, but not to Louis.

He _knew_ Harry went here.

Louis decides to ignore it, however.  Harry obviously doesn’t want to be noticed for some reason, and Louis should respect that.  He’s allowed himself to shrug off that night he’d discovered Harry, because although it was a bit creepy, Louis had seen creepier.  It wasn’t a big deal, and it probably would’ve been best if he left the boy alone.

He disregards that whole situation as he and Niall finally succeed in getting Zayn to stop bleeding, and eventually, they join the masses inside the school where they now only have ten minutes to get to class.

When Louis finally makes it through the crowded halls and approaches his locker, he’s not surprised to find the word “GAY” written across it with some type of thick black marker.  He hears a few faint snickers to the right of him, but he definitely doesn’t turn his attention toward it.

“Really, guys?” Louis says tiredly as he opens his locker and finds the conveniently placed container of disinfectant wipes inside.  He plucks a few wipes out before closing his locker with his elbow.  “In 2017 this isn’t even clever or hurtful anymore.  At this point it’s just true,” Louis says as he wipes the mess off of his locker.  He does the combination again in order to open it up and toss the wipes into it, as well as retrieve the notebook he’d actually _came_ to his locker for.

He nearly jumps when he closes his locker and realizes someone’s next to him.  Very _closely_ next to him as they lean against the lockers.

He’s wearing a black leather jacket, his hair is styled back to such precise perfection that Louis is almost envious, and Louis is _certain_ he’s never seen this guy in his _life_ , which is odd.

“Hi there,” Louis says slowly, after he’s collected himself from the shock.  He’s still a little freaked out that this person had seemingly popped up from out of nowhere, but Louis figures he probably just needs to pay attention to his surroundings a bit more.

The guy offers him a lopsided grin that’s drenched in entitlement and smugness.  “Hey,” he replies.

“I don’t suppose you did this?” Louis asks with a fake grin, gesturing at the now squeaky clean surface of his locker.

The boy crosses his arms as he continues to lean against the lockers.  “Nah,” he says with a shake of his head.  “That’s weak.  And old.”  His eyes seem to go dark for a moment as he stares at Louis, Louis beginning to quickly feel uncomfortable as he looks behind himself and over his shoulder.  “I prefer more direct… _physical_ confrontation, ya know?  It’s much more intimidating.”

This is weird.  It’s weird, and it’s slightly scary.

The common sense part of Louis’ brain is telling him to end this conversation and walk away, but that horrid, overbearingly curious part of his brain is, as always, much louder.

“I’ve never seen you before,” Louis says as he grips the strap of his backpack.

“I know,” he starts with a quick raise of his eyebrows.  He then extends a hand out towards Louis, confident and eager.  “I’m Liam.”

With probably the most hesitance he’s ever had, Louis lifts a hand in order to shake Liam’s.  The alarming coldness of his palm seals the deal for Louis, and he decides _fuck_ being curious, he’s getting the hell out of here and never talking to this person again.

“Okay,” Louis replies, retracting his hand with slightly wide eyes before backing up a little.  “Nice meeting you,” he says, right before he turns around and doesn’t look back.

 

~*~

 

Something is happening. 

Something fucking _freaky_ is going on and Louis can no longer ignore it. 

He’s in class, picking at the pesky hangnail on his thumb and absolutely burying himself in anxiety. 

The worst thing is, Louis doesn’t even know _what_ he’s beginning to freak himself out over.  There’s just this… _feeling_ that he’s been feeling all day.  It’d started as soon as he’d reached the school on his bike, and it’s intensified ever since then.  It’s had Louis unable to concentrate properly, sit still, or even _walk_ anywhere without looking over his shoulder.

The teacher is making them watch some type of educational video on plagiarism and Louis hasn’t paid attention to a single minute of it.

Louis turns his head slightly as he scratches behind his ear, glancing towards the closed door of the classroom where there’s a window on it that gives everyone a peek into the hallway.

He sees someone walk by the window, and—it’s that _guy_ from earlier.  _Liam_ , Louis believes his name was.

Louis quickly averts his eyes, instead turning to the guy next to him that’s on the verge of falling asleep.

He leans in just a bit, making sure to keep his voice at a low level.  “Hey…have you heard of a boy named Liam that goes here?” Louis asks.

The guy shakes his head a few times as he becomes alert, rubbing at his neck and looking at Louis confusedly.  “Who?”

That’s all Louis needs to know.

He sits back in his chair, a part of him wanting to sink down to the ground, disappearing under the desk, and another part of him wanting to run out of this classroom entirely and back to the safety of his home.

Louis’ eyes wander the entire room with sort of a paranoid edge, and when he places his sights in the back corner of the room, that’s when he remembers that Harry is indeed in this class.  The boy’s head is down, as it often is, and his hoodie is finally off of his head.  He’s as unrecognizable as an ant on the ground, and obviously, the boy knows this.  It’s almost as though he’s _trying_ not to be recognizable.  What is his _deal_?

Louis continues to stare at him from across the room, and his head remains down, but it starts to seem like he’s _sensing_ Louis’ eyes on him, because he begins to slightly cave in on himself, pushing his body further into the far corner of his desk.

Louis decides that he can’t ignore this.  Sorry, he just can’t.

When the bell rings, Louis is out of his seat within seconds, but he’s clearly underestimated how quick Harry is, because the boy’s out the door before Louis can even slide on his backpack. 

Louis’ still going to catch up to him, however, and ask him about what exactly his deal is.  Louis initially loses him within the swarm of the student body, but when he spots that quickly moving head of curls in the distance, Louis advances toward him. 

Everyone’s rushing to reach their next class and here Louis is, rushing to make sure he doesn’t lose sight of Harry.  It’s starting to seem like even _Harry_ isn’t trying to get to class and simply trying to…get away.

This is confirmed when he looks over his shoulder just _slightly_ , and then sharply turns a hallway corner.

He knows Louis is following him.

The hallways are slowly starting to clear out as the five minutes students are allowed between classes near their end.  Eventually, Louis finds himself following behind Harry with only about four other students in the hallway, either at their lockers or striding with determined feet in order to make it before the bell.  At this point, Louis’ definitely going be late to class no matter what.

Slowly, Harry’s steps come to a stop smack in the middle of the now spacious hallway, both of his hands tensely gripping the straps of his backpack.  He begins to turn around, and Louis quickly pulls his phone out of his pocket, leaning against the wall and scrolling through the blank screen casually as he feels Harry’s eyes on him. 

The boy turns around and continues walking, which prompts Louis to do the same.

Louis waits for the exact moment that the last student exits through one of the doors and into a classroom, and then he and Harry are completely alone.

“You _do_ go here,” Louis says once he’s close enough behind the boy.

Harry immediately begins working on the combination of one of the lockers (Louis’ pretty sure it isn’t even his) and turning his face away from Louis.

“Please stop following me…” he says, his face hidden as his fingers begin to tremble a bit.

Louis slows down as he approaches, because he doesn’t _mean_ to come off as harsh, but judging by the jittery way Harry is reacting, that’s probably exactly what he’s doing.  He’s not _trying_ to overwhelm him.

Louis’ hands drop to his sides as he stares at Harry’s profile.  The boy has given up fiddling with the locker and instead resorted to resting his forehead against it, continuing to tilt his face away from Louis.

“I just wanna know what’s up with you…” Louis starts softly.  “I mean…you had _blood_ on your face for goodness’ sake and you hardly even explained why, and you—you _lied_ about going here.  Why would you do that?”

There’s a stretching silence where Louis is standing there, waiting for something, anything to be said, and Harry’s probably wishing he’d go away.

Gradually, with such a slowness that Louis actually starts to feel suspenseful, Harry turns and looks at him. 

The first thing Louis notices once he’s gotten a good look at him is…he’s really pale.

His skin is bordering on pure white, which causes his lips to appear to be a fairly vibrant pinkish-red color in comparison to the absence of pigment everywhere else on his face.

“Don’t worry about me, okay?” is what Harry says, his voice deep and rough.  “Just—please.  This should be the last time we talk.”

“Why?” Louis asks, his lips curving downward a bit as he takes one step closer, making sure to still allow a considerate amount of space between them.  Louis presses his palms together as he forces an apathetic grin on his face.  “I mean, you seem kind of lonely…like maybe you could use some new friends—“

“No,” Harry replies breathily with a shake of his head as he looks down at his feet.  “I don’t need friends, I just…I need to leave.”  With one last breath, he turns around and continues down the hall, leaving Louis to stand there in a state of ultimate confusion.

Before he can get very far though, Harry turns around, which throws Louis off to a high degree.

Harry raises a hesitant hand as he approaches Louis again.  “Also, _please_ stop trying to summon spirits,” he adds, as some sort of afterthought.

Louis’ eyes widen almost instantly, and there’s no way in _hell_ Harry’s going to just walk away after saying that.

Louis grabs his forearm before Harry can fully turn away, and it’s hard to miss how heavily the boy groans.

“Woah— _woah_ ,” Louis starts, getting right in front of Harry and fixing his huge eyes on him.  “How did you even _know_?”

Harry continues to avoid eye contact, his eyebrows knitting together.  “I just _know_ , okay?”

Louis is barely registering everything right now.  He stands there with his mouth half open, eyes filled with wonder, and a sudden surge of interest in who this person in front of him even _is_.

“Stop doing it,” Harry repeats.  “You don’t know what you’re messing with.”

“I…” Louis starts, breathless as he shakes his head.  He takes a step back from Harry, allowing some more space between them as Harry continues to look at the tiled floor of the empty hallway.  “You know you’re sounding very cryptic right now, right?” Louis asks.

Harry continues to say nothing as he crosses his arms over his chest.  He’s not moving to leave again though, so Louis takes this as a sign of progress.

“God, everything has been so weird today,” Louis says with a sigh as he rubs his palm over his forehead.  “First you, and then this weird feeling I’ve been sensing all day…and then that strange guy I’d never even seen before,” Louis continues, now pretty much talking to himself.

At this, Harry picks his head up, and Louis’ certain it’s the first time the boy has looked him directly in his eyes.

“What strange guy?” Harry asks, stepping toward him.

Louis shakes his head, letting out yet another sigh.  “He said his name was Liam.  It’s really hard for me to be creeped out by anything, yet he gave me _such_ creepy vibes—“

Louis’ sentence is cut off when Harry abruptly and aggressively grips his arm, pulling him down the hallway as he now walks at high speed.  It wouldn’t even suffice for Louis to claim he’s severely confused at the moment.

“What—“

“It’s already too _late_ ,” Harry says sharply, before opening the door of what Louis is pretty sure is one of the custodial closets, viciously pulling Louis in, and shutting the door harshly.

The light bulb hanging from above takes a while to flicker on once Harry flips the switch.

“What are you _doing_?” Louis asks, genuinely beginning to panic as they now stand within such close proximity of each other.  This closet is way too cozy for two people who are practically strangers.

Harry fixes a hard stare on him for a moment, as though he’s contemplating something.  Louis continues to stay thoroughly confused as he quirks an eyebrow upward.

“How could you do something so _stupid_?” Harry asks, shaking his head and glancing up at the wavering light bulb.

“Huh…?” Louis asks, tilting his head a bit as his voice remains small and soft.

“ _Liam_ ,” Harry says, almost forcefully.  “You _summoned_ him.”

Ah.  That explains a lot.

A dozen thoughts begin to flood Louis’ mind as he chews on his bottom lip, and suddenly, the smug, dark way Liam had been grinning at him earlier is beginning bother him even more than it already was.

“I thought…” Louis starts, his voice sounding like more of a squeak than anything else.  “I thought it would be one of those fun, old-timey spirits, you know?” Louis says as he meets Harry’s unamused eyes again.  “I didn’t know it was dangerous.”

Harry presses his back against the door, bringing both hands to his face as he clearly begins to go through some conflicting internal struggle.  Louis’ not sure what it is, and he’s also not sure of why Harry cares so much when it has nothing to do with him anyway.

“How bad could this be?” Louis asks, seriously wanting to know the answer, while at the same time hoping Harry doesn’t respond.

Harry slides his hands down his face just enough for his eyes to meet Louis’ again, and yep, he’s definitely struggling on whether or not he should help Louis.  Whether or not he should get involved.

Instead of saying anything, Harry moves his hand to grip the doorknob behind him before twisting it and letting himself out.  He’s walking away from Louis even faster now, and by the time Louis has gotten out of the closet, he’s halfway down the hallway.

“ _Hey!”_ Louis yells, almost desperately.  “You can’t just shake me up like that and walk _away_!  What about my safety?”

Harry comes to an abrupt stop, turning his head just a little in order to glance over his shoulder, although not fully looking at Louis as he speaks.

His voice is the quietest thing in the hallway, yet Louis still makes sure he hears every word.  “Meet me behind the parking lot.  Three on the dot.”  And then he turns the corner and vanishes from Louis’ line of vision.

As shook and dissociative as Louis is quickly becoming, he still makes sure to remember exactly where he needs to be after school.  He spends the rest of the day thinking about it, worrying about it, becoming cripplingly paranoid because of it.  He keeps thinking he sees Liam, even when he doesn’t; his ears trick him into believing maybe he’s heard Liam call his name, even though he hasn’t.  Louis is losing it.

Louis’ last class of the day is band, which in and of itself is torture, and the thought of meeting Harry after school keeps Louis’ leg shaking all throughout the period.

When the bell rings to mark the end of the day, Louis is out of his chair before anyone can even blink, and he’s moving across the room in order to put his clarinet back inside its case and store it away for the next day.  He may or may not accidentally knock someone over in the process of his speedy movements, but he _has_ to meet Harry.  He’s afraid that if he even comes a minute late, that’ll give Harry enough time to bail on him.

Louis practically runs through the hallways with his backpack hanging off of him, politely weaving in and out of crowds with his “excuse me”’s and “sorry”’s, and when he reaches the area behind the parking lot where the concrete is separated from the gravel by a rusty, metal fence, sure enough, Harry is there.

He’s just standing, his hoodie over his head, his back against the fence, and his hands stuffed in his pockets as he looks at his feet.

Louis tries to disguise the fact that he’s nearly out of breath as he speaks.  “So…” Louis starts.  “What’s the plan?”

“We have to go to your house,” Harry says almost automatically.

Louis nods his head slowly, biting the inside of his cheek.  “Okay…okay,” Louis says, nodding with more certainty this time.  He gestures for Harry to follow him, before proceeding to go over to where he’d left his bike, and thankfully, it’s still there.

Louis doesn’t have the concentration or the energy to ride it back, so he settles on walking it all the way back to his house, Harry not uttering a word as he walks alongside him.  Louis tries to make conversation a few times in order to attempt to relax both Harry and himself, but Harry never takes the bait, instead choosing to offer him numerous one-word replies.

When they reach his house, Louis has hardly even closed the front door behind them before Harry is ransacking his kitchen, opening cabinets, sliding drawers out, and scattering the many cereal boxes that are in the pantry.

Louis wants to question him, but Harry’s eyes are so serious and focused that the boy decides against it as he simply watches him.

“Baking soda,” Harry says sternly, flashing his eyes at Louis.

“Very top shelf of the pantry,” Louis says quietly.

Harry successfully retrieves it, along with the industrial sized container of salt that Louis’ pretty sure he’s not even allowed to touch.

“Lighters?” Harry asks, almost frantically.

“I have a bunch in my room.  And matches,” Louis replies.

Harry nods before gathering the box of baking soda and the salt container in his arms and tilting his head towards Louis.  “Where’s your room?”

Louis doesn’t hesitate to lead the way, walking out of the kitchen and toward the very end of the long and confusing hall. 

For the first time since entering the house, Harry actually takes a moment to stop and look around once they come into his bedroom and Louis claps in order to turn on the lights.

He stands near the doorway as Louis sits on his bed, and the boy’s eyes widen to only a tiny degree as he continues to take in his surroundings.

It always takes people a while to adjust to his bedroom.  To some people, it’s a lot to take in, the fact that his walls are painted black, his sheer curtains are a dark blood red, his desk is filled to the brim with voodoo dolls, useless spell books, a Ouija board, various kinds of incense, numerous crystals, and realistic-looking Day of the Dead skulls that he’d gotten members of the Spanish club to mold, and draped from his ceiling are multiple pieces of tapestry that are supposed to suppress negative energies.  Louis’ gotten used to Harry’s kind of reaction by now, so it doesn’t phase him.

“…cool room,” is what Harry finally says, before remembering why he’s there. 

Olive comes out of the closet just as Harry sets down the salt container on top of the dresser and begins to rip open the box of baking soda.  Immediately, Olive begins to act just as revolted and outlandish as she had when she’d discovered Harry in the bushes that night, and Louis has to go over and scold her.

“Olive, _stop it_ ,” Louis says as he leans down and brushes her fur.  He turns his attention toward Harry, and it takes everything in him not to comment on the fact that the boy is now actively coating his room in baking soda, sprinkling traces of it everywhere, as though this is a normal thing that people do.

“I don’t know why my cat doesn’t like you,” Louis decides to say instead of acknowledging the strange occurrence at hand.  “She’s a Bombay cat,” Louis says, standing up and gathering her in his arms.  He moves toward Harry, intent to get some kind of comfortable atmosphere going as he snuggles his face into Olive’s fur.  “She’s really cute.  Do you like her?”

“Sure,” Harry replies halfheartedly as he now begins to sprinkle a layer of salt over all of the baking soda, causing his room to begin to look like a light snow flurry had hit it.

“Okay, you have to tell me what you’re doing,” Louis says with a sigh as he sits back down on his bed, allowing Olive to lick at his hand.

Harry goes over to his dresser where there are numerous different sets of matches, and he pulls one out before lighting it with his _teeth_.

Louis’ mouth hangs open as he watches Harry hold the now lit match, eyes concentrated solely on the flame as he carefully moves around Louis’ room.

“This should keep him out for tonight,” Harry says quietly.  “Unless he’s already here.”

They pause for a moment—a moment where Louis’ not exactly sure what they’re waiting for.  Harry’s darting his eyes around, and Louis’ insides are churning uncomfortably.

“Okay, you’re good,” Harry suddenly says, before continuing to sway the match around

Louis’ room is beginning to smell of smoke and whatever salt mixed with baking soda smells like, and he doesn’t know how to feel about it.  Harry also seems to be alarmingly concentrated as he takes slow, practiced steps around the room with the match lit between his pale fingers.

“You have to stay in here for the rest of the night,” Harry says abruptly, before blowing out the match on the first try.

Louis opens his mouth for a moment, knitting his eyebrows together as he looks at Harry as though the boy is absurd.  “Wha— _Why_?”

“Let me rephrase that,” Harry says, now turning to face Louis as he stands in the middle of the room.  “If you value your life, you should stay in here for the rest of the night.”  Louis has never seen a person more serious than Harry is being in this exact moment, so he doesn’t dare argue with him.  Harry could’ve at _least_ told him this beforehand, however—he would’ve _eaten_ something, perhaps.

“So…” Louis starts, drumming his fingers on his thighs.  “This will get rid of him,” he says, gesturing around toward the mess of his room.

“No.  This will keep him out of this particular space.  It only works in small areas,” Harry says, now turning around and moving towards his door.  “I don’t know what will get rid of him.”

Louis’ pretty sure he’s frozen in place, because he doesn’t even stir when Harry swings the door open and leaves out of it without another word.  He doesn’t know what to think, or say, or even _do_.  He doesn’t even know the magnitude of what he’s done because Harry is so _vague_ at answering things.

How does Harry _know_ all of this?  Is he some sort of ghost-whisperer or something?   Had Louis really been going to school with someone who can communicate with the dead and it took him _this_ long to realize it?

And he also can’t help but wonder what it is that Liam wants.  If this is really as dire and horrible as Harry’s making it out to be.  Liam’s dead, so what could he possibly want with Louis?

Louis decides that it’d probably be best for him to calm himself.

He attempts to do so for a few minutes, breathing in and out until he finally begins to unclench just a little.

It’s okay.  Harry did that… _stuff_ to his room, so he should be fine.

For tonight.

Throughout the entirety of the night, Louis probably gets half an hour of sleep at maximum.

 

~*~

 

“Louis?”

Louis snaps his head to his left to find Niall glancing at him, one eyebrow raised.  “Huh?”

Niall rolls his eyes.  “I asked if—“

“Road!” Zayn yells from where he’s laid down in the backseat.

Niall quickly whips his eyes back ahead and jerks the wheel so that he’s back in one lane.  Louis fears for his life.

“I was asking what your plans for Halloween are,” Niall says as he flicks off a car that passes by him, even though _he’d_ been the one drifting in their lane.

Louis hears Zayn chuckle in the backseat.  “We need ideas, since I’m pretty sure we can’t pass for overgrown trick-or-treaters anymore.”

Louis’ backpack is rested on his lap and he doesn’t even realize how tightly he’s holding onto it as Niall speeds down the road, almost twenty miles per hour over the speed limit.

“I…I dunno…” Louis replies, his knuckles whitening where he’s gripping his backpack.  “And slow down, Niall, Jesus.”

Niall sucks his teeth as he grips the top of the steering wheel.  “Dude, chill out.  This whole ride you’ve been looking like you’re about to meet your death—“

Louis gets jolted forward when Niall slams on the brakes upon noticing a pedestrian crossing the street at the last possible second.

“Maybe that’s because I _am_ ,” Louis says, which prompts both Niall and Zayn to laugh, because obviously, it sounds like a joke.

He’d accepted Niall’s offer of driving him to school that morning because he didn’t feel too comfortable about the idea of biking to school alone. 

He’s _fine_ though.  It’s not like he’s actually becoming scared of this whole Liam situation or anything.  It’s just that right now he’s feeling like maybe he needs to be surrounded by people.  He’s sure he’ll be back to riding his bike to school by tommorrow.  Maybe he won’t be taking his shortcut through the woods, but still.

Louis doesn’t even know why he’s being so worried, because as the day goes on, nothing bad happens.  In fact, the eerie feeling is almost gone, and Louis hasn’t seen Liam even once.  Harry had gotten him spooked over absolutely nothing.

Another thing is, Harry is absolutely nowhere to be seen for the first half of the day.  Not in the morning walking into the school, not in the hallways, not in the cafeteria during lunch.  _Nowhere_.

But then suddenly, there in that same back corner of the classroom, Harry is sitting there.  Not being seen, not being spoken to, and not being acknowledged, just the way he likes it.

For the entirety of the class period, they’re supposed to be doing silent independent reading of any book of their choice, and Louis had been reading his book of urban legends for quite a while before remembering that Harry was in this class with him.

Harry’s sat at his desk, a book open in front of him, although it’s obvious he isn’t reading.  His head is down, and his hoodie is off of his head, but it seems more like he’s just staring at the pages with dead eyes.

Louis shakes his head before turning his attention back to his own desk.

As quietly as possible, Louis takes an edge of the page he’s reading and rips a small portion of it away.  Louis grabs the pen that’s laying on his desk and clicks it awake in order to scribble words onto the small sheet of paper.

 _How do you know so much about spirits?_ Louis writes, his tongue sticking out from between his lips in concentration as he gets the words down on paper.

He then crumples up the paper in his right hand, turns his torso in Harry’s general direction, and throws it with as much accuracy as he can muster.

It bounces off of his head and onto his desk.

Harry takes a moment to look at it, and Louis’ certain that he knows exactly who threw it.  With reluctant fingers, Harry takes it, spreads it open, and begins to read the question scribbled across the now wrinkly piece of paper.

Louis stares at him with his bottom lip between his teeth, hopeful and curious as Harry continues to keep it spread on top of his desk.

And then he just crumples it up again and scoots it out of the way, before positioning his attention back upon his book.

Louis’ jaw nearly drops to the floor with offense as he glares at the boy across the room, before he turns back around in his seat and decides that if Harry wants to be so stubborn about everything, so be it.

The dead silence of the room is beginning to bother Louis more than it probably should.  Mostly because everyone’s probably focused on what they’re reading or what they’re going to eat for lunch or how they’re going to do their hair the next day, while Louis is focused on much more complicated, perplexing things that are only mildly terrifying.

Not a single word or sound is heard until ten minutes later, when his teacher looks up from his desk through his thick eyeglasses and lifts a white envelope in the air.

“Who’d like to volunteer to take this down to the office for me?” he asks, and immediately the room is even more silent than it was before.

Louis rests his head on his fist and looks down at his book in order to avoid eye contact, and many students glance around at each other as the silence stretches.

Suddenly, Louis feels a quick shove against his back as students behind him begin to chuckle.

“Louis wants to do it,” some guy says, which prompts Louis to lift his head and quickly shake it.

“No, I—“

“Perfect,” his teacher says, disregarding Louis’ words.  He holds the envelope out toward Louis, even as far as the boy is from his desk.  “It’s not going to kill you to do something for somebody.”

Louis swallows as he pushes himself up from his seat, taking the slowest steps possible in order to elongate the time period between being in this class and not being in this class.

As he takes the envelope out of his teacher’s hand, he doesn’t think about how the office is on the _extreme_ other side of the building, how he has to walk substantially far in order to reach it, and how he’s going completely _alone_.

Louis’ pretty sure that becoming anxious about this will most likely do him no good—Liam can probably _sense_ when he’s nervous or something.  He just focuses on getting to where he’s supposed to be, delivering the envelope, and hopefully making it safely back to class.

Besides, Liam won’t try to do anything in broad daylight where any student can walk in at any moment.

That thought alone is enough to calm Louis down as he continues his journey through vast hallways and wide staircases. 

There comes a certain point where the school divides in half, and students have to cross a tiny courtyard outside in order to get to the other side.  The school had gone to good lengths in order to make it presentable, with stone benches set up against the brick walls and various flowers surrounding the area.  The place has always been one of Louis’ favorites.

He’s admiring the pot full of lilies set up in the corner of the courtyard when he reaches the other side of it, and he reaches for the doorknob, intent to enter the other half of the school building.

It doesn’t open.

Louis makes an effort to shake the handle vigorously and try to get it to open, but the door still doesn’t budge.  He takes two steps away from it, figuring that it’s probably just locked, or something.  It’s pretty dumb that someone would lock one of the most vital doors in the entirety of the building, but whatever, Louis isn’t going to dwell on it too much.

So Louis turns around, intent to reach the other door on the opposite side of the room and leave back out where he came from.  He’s just going to have to explain that there’s no _possible_ way he can deliver the envelope—

The door on the opposite side of the courtyard _slams_ shut.  The slam is so vicious that the glass sign that’d initially been hanging over it labeled “Building 2” crashes to the ground and shatters into pieces.

Okay.  Um…okay.

Louis takes a few steps back away from the door he’d once been approaching, and it becomes increasingly evident that his heart race has picked up drastically.

The sprinkle of leaves where they lay on the ground begin to shake a bit as the area grows much windier than before, which heightens Louis’ worry even more.

Naturally, what Louis decides to do is surge forward and try with everything inside him to open this _fucking_ door, and he tries to disregard how the wind is picking up, causing the leaves to swirl around in the air and his hair to blow in several different directions.

When the wind becomes so strong that the envelope flies right out of his hand, Louis knows there’s no use.  Liam is _here_.  Louis may not know exactly where he is, but he’s here.

Louis backs away from the door, feeling useless and helpless and scared shitless and all the –less’s that a person can think of when they’re this fucking terrified.

He accidentally trips over the corner of a bench that he didn’t know was behind him, and immediately braces himself for the pain the fall will bring—

But it doesn’t come.

Because someone catches him from behind.

“ _Careful_ ,” Liam says, his arms now hooked under Louis’ armpits.  “Wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”

Instantly, Louis jumps up and turns around, already beginning to create distance between him and Liam.  He looks exactly like he did the first time Louis had seen him—same outfit, same hair, same dark eyes, _everything_.

Despite how scared he is, Louis chooses to put a grin on his face as he speaks.  “Hey Liam, hi, uh—listen…” Louis starts, putting a hand up as he laughs breathily.  “I-I made a mistake…summoning you and all.”  It’s hard not to notice the comfortably smug look on Liam’s face as he steps toward Louis for every step the boy takes back.

“I didn’t mean to wake you up from a peaceful sleep or anything,” Louis continues, his voice starting to quiver a bit as he continues to back up, knowing it’s only a matter of time before he runs out of space to escape to. 

“Eh, don’t feel bad about it,” Liam replies with a shrug, before he begins stretching his arms out, pulling them across his chest, one after the other.  “You just gave me something to do, to be honest.”

Louis’ back hits the door sooner than he’s prepared for, and his breath goes still as Liam continues to advance towards him. He figures he should just brace himself for whatever is going to happen, just stand there and take it.

And then suddenly, Liam is gone.

He just _disappears_.

And Louis’ allowed three seconds of relief as he takes a few steps in order to look around.  Of course, the moment of relief completely vanishes when he turns to see Liam, sat several feet up high on the shelf against the brick wall where a few potted flowers are set.

“It’s really cute,” Liam starts, speaking casually as he picks at the petals of one of the pink orchids.  “How worried you look right now.”

“What do you _want_ from me?” Louis asks, not holding back in showing desperation.

Liam finally looks at Louis directly and blinks at him a few times, as though he’s not sure what the boy’s confused about.  “Oh, it’s quite simple, really.  I’m bitter that I died, so I want someone else to die too.  It only makes sense.”

Louis freezes from head to toe, unable to even move or speak as he tries to register Liam’s words.  This is real.  This is actually _happening_ —all of it is going to end in the courtyard where no one is around to witness it.

Liam grabs a hold of one of the large ceramic flower pots sitting next to him, his eyes inspecting it thoroughly.  Then, without warning, Liam shrugs one shoulder, turns the pot over and dumps every last remain of it onto the ground—and then hurls the pot in Louis’ direction with such power that can only be described as superhuman.

If it weren’t for Louis’ mind actually clicking awake and yelling at him to jump out of the way at the last minute, Louis’ sure that right now he would’ve been on the ground in agony, his face covered in blood and pieces of shard stuck in his cheeks.  Instead he’s on the ground a few feet away from where he’d jumped, out of breath, shaken, and probably bearing a sprained elbow as he watches the pot shatter where it hits the wall with unmistakable force.

This seems to piss Liam off, and he jumps down from where he’d initially been sitting up high, Louis immediately scooting all the way back into the wall with the tiny amount of strength he still has.

“If you think I’m actually going anywhere without getting this done,” Liam starts, leaning down over Louis and swiftly grabbing at the collar of his shirt, viciously pulling him forward.  His voice is low and growling when he continues.  “Then you’re hilarious.”

Just as Liam’s jerking Louis forward with the relentless grip he has on his shirt, the school-wide bell rings in order to signal the end of the current class period.  Liam glances up for a moment, as though he’d forgotten about where they were altogether, and Louis continues to slightly tremble, his mouth half open and his body aching.

Then, Liam sighs, shoves Louis away so that his back hits the wall extremely hard, and he disappears.

Only a few seconds after he vanishes, the door next to Louis opens, and students begin flooding in.  It doesn’t take long for a lot of them to stop talking to who they’re walking with or paying attention to their phones to realize the courtyard is a mess, which then brings many of their eyes to fall upon the figure of Louis, still sat there on the ground as he starts to feel a great amount of pain in his back.

“Hey,” Louis says breathily as some students stare at him with questioning eyes.  “Hi, I was just, uh… chilling,” Louis says with a forced laugh, before attempting to actually get _up_ and get the fuck out of there.

 

~*~

 

Louis will _never_ be caught alone again.

He practically _glues_ himself to people for the rest of the day, making sure that he is always accompanied by someone no matter what he’s doing.  He doesn’t even go to the _bathroom_ alone out of fear that Liam might be floating in the toilet, waiting to drown him.

Louis has successfully been shaken to the core.

Of all things, Louis never would’ve guessed that _this_ would be the thing that breaks him.  He’s dedicated so much of his time to supernatural beings, studying them, respecting them, understanding them, yet _this_ is going to be the way he goes out.  It makes him feel so stupid.

At the end of the school day, when Niall asks Louis if he needs a ride home, Louis doesn’t even have to think twice before replying with a speedy “ _yes”_.  At this point, Niall’s driving is the least of his worries.

As they’re pulling out of the parking lot, however, Louis sees something that causes him to change his mind.

It’s Harry, walking along the sidewalk away from the school—the usual; his head’s down, his hands are in his pockets, and his hoodie is covering half of his face.

“Wait—let me out,” Louis suddenly says as he begins to unlock the door by his passenger seat.

Niall twists his face in confusion.  “Why?  What are you—“

“Just slow down and let me get out.  I’ll get home another way,” Louis says forcefully, causing Niall to finally adhere to his wishes. 

Niall smacks his teeth as his car comes to a stop against the curb.  “Suit yourself, you weirdo.”

Louis rolls his eyes as he opens the door and steps out.  He has to speed just a bit in order to catch up to Harry, but he eventually does, and he greets him with some harsh taps on the shoulder.

“ _Hey_.  Why did you ignore me?” Louis asks once Harry finally looks at him.

Harry directs his eyes back down to his shoes as he continues to walk at the exact same pace as before.  “I don’t know what you’re referring to.”

“I’m talking about when I threw that note at you in class.  You knew it was me,” Louis says.  “And you ignored it.  Why?”

They continue to walk in silence for a moment, and Harry’s growing that same look on his face that indicates he’s debating over whether he should say a certain thing or not.

“I didn’t have an answer to that question,” Harry replies.

Louis blows out an exhausted breath before gripping Harry by the fabric of his hoodie and preventing him from walking any further.  “I know that’s a lie.  _How_ do you know about this kind of stuff?”  He’s looking Harry directly in his eyes now, and Harry is practically forced to look back, although it’s obviously quite difficult for him.

Then Harry just shakes his head slightly, before he turns and begins walking again.

“Liam came after me today,” Louis says desperately, still standing in place as Harry's steps begin to slow a bit.

There’s a pause, where there’s a few feet between them and no words being said.

“I know,” Harry replies.

“You _know_?” Louis asks incredulously as he walks up to Harry.  “So, you knew I was meeting my death and you just sat there and did _nothing_?”

“I couldn’t do anything,” Harry says quietly as they begin walking in sync.  “Was I supposed to run out in the middle of class and have everyone looking at me crazy?”

“ _Yes_!” Louis exclaims.

They’re pretty far away from the school grounds now, and Louis’ not sure where either of them are going, but he continues to walk alongside Harry regardless, because he _refuses_ to be alone.

As much as Louis doesn’t want to, he understands why Harry didn’t do anything to help him.  Obviously, his strange, overwhelming fear of being noticed by people is stronger than his desire to do anything to help this idiot boy he hardly even knows.  Still, Louis isn’t comfortable about the idea of Harry not giving a shit about whether he dies or not.

“Just…” Louis starts, sighing as he brings his voice down to a calmer level.  “Tell me about him.  Why is he so angry?”

“Because he’s dead.”

“Yeah but…” Louis starts, scratching at his hair for a moment.  “Still?  Angry over _that_?  So do the dead just never get over it, or…?”

“He died last year.”

Oh.  That’s fairly recent.

“His friends set him up because they were jealous of him, I remember,” Harry explains.  “It happened in this alleyway a few blocks down from school.”

Louis breathes steadily as he looks down at the leaves upon the sidewalk, and he doesn’t know how to feel.

“How…” Louis starts, his voice catching a bit.  “How did it happen?”

“He was stabbed.”

Louis brings his hand up to his mouth, and he _really_ hates the fact that he’s starting to feel overwhelming amounts of sympathy for the very guy who is trying to end him.

“So naturally, he wants someone else to suffer,” Harry continues, sliding his hoodie off of his head to reveal his unkempt curls.  “And it makes sense to pick on the idiot who summoned him.”

“ _Hey_ ,” Louis replies.

They both gradually come to a stop as the road ends and the only option is to either go right or left.

Louis grips his backpack with one hand as he turns to Harry, offering the boy hopeful eyes.

“I was hoping you could do some more of that stuff you do so Liam doesn’t get into my room?” Louis says, making himself seem as innocent as possible as Harry looks down on him.  The sun is starting to go down yet the boy’s pale skin still seems to stick out significantly.

“Unless you have to be home right away, or something,” Louis adds, beginning to play with his fingernails.  “Where do you _live_ by the way?  Who _are_ you?”

A sound comes out from between Harry’s lips that may or may not be a laugh—either way, Louis will never know, because the boy puts his head down.

“You saw what I did last night,” Harry replies once he picks his head back up.  “I’m sure you can figure it out.”

“I don’t wanna take the risk of accidentally not doing it right,” Louis says sternly.  “Do you not understand that this is life or death for me?”

Harry exhales heavily as he shakes his head, but Louis keeps his eyes on the boy, intent to let him know that he’s serious about all this.  Harry’s the only person who knows about what’s going on, and he really wants the boy to treat it with as much importance as he is.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'd love to know what you think. updating tomorrow :)


	2. Chapter 2

 

 

“Okay, there you go,” Harry says, right before blowing out the match in his hand. 

Louis’ sat cross-legged on top of his bed, Olive purring as she eats her cat food out of the bowl in his lap.  His room once again resembles a winter wonderland, and it smells especially weird, due to the fact that there are now two days’ worth of shit sprinkled over the surface of it.

Harry moves to grab his backpack from where it’s laying against the wall.  “Remember to stay in this room…”

“So are you ready to tell me why you know so much about this stuff?”

“…and do _not_ open any windows—“

“Seriously, you’re going to have to tell me.”

“And that’s about it,” Harry says, sliding his backpack over his shoulders and completely ignoring what Louis’ saying.  “I’ll see you later.”

Louis moves the bowl out of his lap, allowing Olive to continue vigorously licking at it from where he sets it on top of the bed.

He’s up and out of his bed fairly quick, and just as Harry’s opening the door in order to let himself out, Louis reaches him, and he closes the door with one hand and turns Harry around by his shoulder with the other.

“You’re not going anywhere until you tell me,” Louis says, one of his hands remaining by Harry’s head and their faces especially close.

“There’s nothing to tell you,” Harry says with frustration, even though his wandering eyes suggest there _is_ , and all of this is making him feel trapped right now.

“So help me, I will throw Olive at you and let her have her way with scratching up your face,” Louis says, pointing behind him at his beloved cat.

Harry just shakes his head, although he also faintly grins— _very_ faintly.  If Louis had blinked he would’ve missed it.

Louis lets his hand down from where it’d been pressed against the door.

“C’mon, I mean, how bad could it be?” Louis asks, turning around for a quick moment to gesture at his room.  “Look at me.  Look at the kind of person I am.”  He brings his eyes back to Harry, sincerity contained in each of them as he stares at the boy.  “I promise I won’t judge you.  In fact, whatever it is, it’ll probably make you seem a thousand times cooler in my eyes.”

Harry inhales and exhales as he rests his head back against the door, and Louis’ growing frustrated at how hard he’s making this.

“I mean…are you a ghost whisperer, or something?” Louis asks, taking a step back as he begins to genuinely contemplate answers to his own question.  “That would have to be it,” Louis says, joining his hands together as he thinks deeply about it.  “I mean, unless of course, you’re a spirit too?”  Louis brings his eyes back up to Harry with question, and the boy shakes his head.

A solid _answer._   That’s progress.

And also a _relief_.  Louis wouldn’t know what to do with himself if he found out Harry had been dead all this time.

“Really, the only explanation would be that you’re supernatural too, which is absolutely crazy,” Louis says with a laugh as he now focuses on the strings of Harry’s hoodie.  “I mean, you _do_ have outrageously pale skin—“ Louis looks up at Harry’s face again, the boy’s expression unreadable.  “Do you know that?  That your skin is abnormally pale?”

Harry offers no reply as he rests his head back against the door again, and when Louis looks down, he sees that the boy’s right hand is beginning to clench and unclench, the skin at his knuckles becoming even whiter than it already is with every movement.

“If I didn’t know any better I’d guess you were a vampire,” Louis laughs, eyes glistening as he looks up at Harry, whose face remains hard and unmoving.  “Which would be completely wild,” Louis continues, pushing himself to chuckle as Harry continues to provide no dismissal of his words. 

Harry presses his lips into a line as he shuffles his feet uncomfortably, and Louis knits his eyebrows together in slight puzzlement.

“Right?” Louis continues, his eyes growing bigger.  “You’re not…are you?”  Louis’ voice has gone down several decibels as he studies the boy in front of him, his eyes running along the sharp softness of his pale skin and gliding over the hue of his lips that seem to pop out.

“Oh my god…” Louis breathes, backing away in some sort of attempt to get a better look at Harry.  He dramatically brings his forearm up to his mouth, resisting the urge to bite down on his skin in reaction to the fact that Harry isn’t _denying_ it.  “You really are…?”

Harry exhales harshly through his nose before speaking with his head down.  “No, I-I’m not—“

“You took entirely too long to answer,” Louis says amusedly, his eyes now full and bright as he positively beams with excitement.  “You’re a _vampire_!”

“God, could you be any louder?” Harry asks, looking around with slight worry.

Louis’ completely disregarded self control as he moves over to his desk, grabs the flashlight that’s resting on top of it, and flicks it on with his thumb.  He practically runs back across the room in order to reach Harry again, and he shines the light against the boy’s cheek, his eyes close and observant.

“You’re not sparkling,” Louis says, a dash of disappointment in his tone as he lowers the flashlight to his side.

“Huh?” Harry asks, eyebrows drawn together in confusion.

Louis sucks his teeth as he tosses his flashlight across the room.  “I knew _Twilight_ was inaccurate about everything, but it still would’ve been cool.”

Harry’s facial expression conveys that he’s completely lost on all that’s going on.  “What?”

A grin begins to grow on Louis’ face the longer he looks at Harry and starts to absorb the fact that he is an actual, literal, real _vampire._   His insides are going to _burst_ with joy.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe this is real,” Louis says excitedly, nearly bouncing on his feet as he rubs his knuckles together.  He attempts to calm himself down by walking backwards until he’s sat gently on top of his bed.  “Wow.  This is a lot to take in.”

Harry sets his jaw tight as he looks up at the ceiling for a moment, and he runs a hand through his locks.  “You act like this is hard on _you_.”

“Well it is!” Louis replies, gesturing at himself.  “This is some life-altering, game-changing news!”

“Yeah, it’s not like I just let you in on the most dangerous secret I could probably _ever_ tell anyone,” Harry says, now glaring at him from across the room.  “It’s not like how nosy you are as a person now has the potential to ruin my entire _life_.”

Louis goes quiet, his hand sinking into his mattress as Harry continues to remain in a state of distress.  It seriously looks like this is taking a toll on him—Louis’ pretty sure he’s never even seen him this upset before.

“Just…” Harry starts, leaning his weight onto his right foot.  “Don’t tell anyone, okay?”

“I won’t,” Louis says quietly.  “I promise.”

They share a silent moment as they hold contact with each other from opposite sides of the room, and Louis can’t help but continue to study the features of his face.  He can’t believe he _missed_ this.  A vampire had been right under his nose for probably _months_ now, and he’s just now finding out.  He’s just now realizing how much Harry looks like a vampire, which makes him feel all the more stupid for never even considering it.  They could’ve been having so much fun together.

Olive suddenly hops down from the bed with a graceful landing, and she makes those wretched, awful noises at Harry that both of them have gotten very used to by now.

“Yeah, uh…” Harry starts, scratching at the back of his neck as Olive claws at the air in his general direction.  “House pets usually don’t like me.  They hate the presence of us.”

Louis’ eyebrows nearly touch the sky.  “There’s _more_ of you?”

Harry groans as he pinches the bridge of his nose.  “Just forget it,” he says exhaustedly.  “And also, I would appreciate it if you would stop staring at me like I’m a part of some freak show.”

“Sorry,” Louis says, before quickly averting his eyes to his own lap.  “So this is how you know about Liam?” he pretty much mumbles, in fear of being attacked once again for asking a harmless question.

“Yeah,” Harry replies.  “Whenever someone fucks with the supernatural within a twenty mile radius I can sort of like…sense it.  It’s like a loud ringing in my ear.”

Instantly, Louis feels bad in response to Harry’s words, because at some point he’s pretty sure he attempted to summon spirits nine times in one week.  It must’ve been complete torture for Harry.

Louis can’t help the slight shaking of his leg as he brings his head back up in order to grin at Harry.

“This is so cool,” Louis says, biting back the grin that’s trying so hard to come back to life.  “You are so cool.”

He finds it even more endearing how Harry is so adamant on not lifting his head enough to meet his grin.  He doesn’t know how awesome he is.

As he sits there, a different thought begins to make its way to the front of Louis’ mind.  A…not-so-cool thought, even though it involves the main reason a vampire is called a vampire.

“So…” Louis starts, subconsciously messing with his hands.  “You like…drink people’s blood, and stuff?”  He’s gotten substantially more nervous in a matter of seconds.

“Yes.  That’s kinda the whole point of—“ Harry starts, before simply shaking his head and reaching for the doorknob behind him.  “I will see you tomorrow, Louis,” he says, right before he leaves out, making sure to close the door behind himself.

Louis just sits there, breathless and thoroughly fascinated beyond belief.

Olive comes up to his feet, her head slightly tilted at him as her yellow eyes stare with puzzlement.

“Can you believe that?” Louis asks as he begins to feel her paws against his ankles.  “There was literally a vampire in the same class as me for months and I didn’t realize it.  I suck at loving creepy shit.”

Surprisingly, Louis actually _does_ get sleep when he finally snuggles into bed late at night.  He’s pretty sure it’s due to the fact that he absolutely wears his mind out with his overly excited thoughts and thoroughly vivid scenarios of Harry doing typical vampire-y stuff.

He doesn’t even think about Liam once.

The _next day,_ however, Louis’ right back to making sure he’s surrounded by people at every turn. 

He allows himself to carpool with Niall in the morning once again, forces Zayn to walk him to his first class, and shrugs off the uncomfortable feeling of his full bladder until he has time between classes, when there are many other students in the restroom as well.

At lunch, Louis has just gotten through the line in the cafeteria (with only an apple in his hand due to not finding anything even remotely appetizing) and he’s just about to join Niall and Zayn where they occasionally sit and eat in the hallway by the band room, when he catches sight of Harry.

The boy almost walks past him, but Louis stops that before it can happen, clutching the fabric of the boy’s hoodie and halting his footsteps.

“You know I can see you, right?” Louis asks quietly, a grin poking at his lips.  “You may blend in to other people, but not to me.  You’re the only guy that wears the same outfit every day.”

Harry turns toward him, flashing him a fake, annoyed grin as Louis blinks up at him with bright eyes.

“That’s because you’re a nosy pain in the butt,” Harry replies, and the boy probably means to come off as hostile, but Louis can sense the fond tone behind his words.

Louis’ about to respond when someone comes up behind him and physically turns him around with both hands on his shoulders.  Of _course_ it’s Zayn—the boy doesn’t know anything about simply calling someone’s name to get their attention.

“Me and Ni were gonna ditch and get some _actual_ food,” Zayn starts, pointing over his shoulder towards the double-door exit of the cafeteria.  “Wanna come?”

Louis stares down at the reddish-brown apple in his right hand, knowing the obvious answer to the question.

It seems that Zayn realizes there’s actually a _person_ standing behind Louis after a full fifteen seconds, and his eyes grow inquisitive as he motions at the boy, but still doesn’t directly acknowledge him.  “You can bring your friend too…” he says.

Louis turns toward Harry, one of his eyebrows rising with a shy hopefulness.  The pearl whites of Harry’s teeth biting down against his bottom lip are causing his mouth to be an even more foreign shade of pink.

“Uh…” Harry starts, shaking his head as he shuffles his feet.  “Ditching school…I don’t think I can—“

“Oh c’mon, it’ll be fun,” Louis says, touching Harry’s arm and shaking him around a bit.

Zayn’s mouth spreads into a wide grin as he stares at Harry.  “ _Awww_ ,” he practically coos.  “You’re a nerd.  Just like Louis,” he says, his eyes twinkling as he stares at both of them and ignores the sharpness of Louis’ narrowed eyes in his direction.

“I’m not a—okay.  I’ll come,” Harry replies, and Louis presses his lips together to contain his satisfaction.

He’s well-aware that Harry wants to slide under the radar, probably because he’s a vampire and there’s not much to relate to about him, but Louis honestly feels that the boy _needs_ companionship.  It can’t be good for someone’s mental well-being, only staying to themselves, talking to themselves, and depending on themselves.  He needs to widen his social circle and allow himself to have some type of _fun_.  With all that time Harry’s spent hiding in corners and avoiding acknowledgement, there’s no way he isn’t miserable.

Once they’re actually sat in a booth inside of some secluded, quiet diner, Louis’ pretty sure the whole “help Harry like people more” thing is easier said than done.  Harry hasn’t said even one word for the entire thirty minutes they’ve sat there, while all three of the other boys have been laughing, shoving each other across the table, and talking with their mouths full.

Niall’s being disgusting with his food and trying to figure out how it would taste if he poured pickle juice into his milkshake, and when Zayn quickly averts his eyes from the figure of Niall drinking the concoction, his attention is brought back toward Harry.  His eyes then settle on the empty area of the table in front of him, which is different from the rest of the table, where everyone has a plate of greasy food in front of them.

“Hey.  Are you sure you’re not gonna eat anything dude?” Zayn asks.

Harry bites the inside of his cheek and shakes his head, his eyes barely meeting Zayn’s.

“Listen, if you don’t have money or whatever, I can buy you something.  It’s no big deal,” Niall says, before wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his jacket.  “You look _starved_.”

“It’s not…” Harry starts, exhaling shakily as he licks over his bottom lip.  “’M just not hungry.”

“After a _whole_ school day?” Zayn asks incredulously.

Louis silently prays that they stop interrogating him about it. 

“I wish I had that kinda stomach,” Niall says, followed by a burp that causes Zayn to chuckle.

Harry forces out a sort of quiet laugh that Louis knows is anything but authentic, but he’s just grateful the boy is making some type of effort to try.  With more time, Harry will probably warm up to them and their…endearingly horrific characteristics, and they could be a heavy group of four. 

Louis’ just about to suggest that they should go hunting for Halloween costumes that weekend when he catches something behind Zayn and over his shoulder.

Liam.

On some sort of instinct, Louis reaches down and grips Harry’s leg in order to get his attention, his fingers nearly digging into the boy’s jeans as the racing of his heart picks up greatly.

Liam’s just sat there, a few booths behind theirs, ankles casually crossed as his feet rest on top of the table, and he has a menu open in front of his face.  The light hanging above his table flickers for a moment before going steady.

“I think I’m done eating,” Louis suddenly announces, directing his eyes back to Niall and Zayn as they sit across from him and Harry.  He’s scooting out of his seat and preparing to slide on his backpack before the boys can even offer any kind of response.  He doesn’t even have to signal Harry, because the boy is getting up right along with him, stretching out his limbs.

“This was nice, though,” Louis says.  “I will see you guys—“

“You’re _leaving?_ ” Niall asks, his lips curving downward.  “After this, we were gonna teepee that old lady’s house that lives across the street from me.”

It’s hard to focus on anything Niall’s saying right now as Louis concentrates on the fact that Liam is now _glaring_ at him, his eyes piercing and relentless as he peeks over the menu he’s holding.

“Yeah, we really wanted you to come,” Zayn adds, his voice almost pleading.

“Honestly, that prank is so old and played out,” Louis starts, his mouth on autopilot as he subconsciously grabs Harry’s forearm and pulls him along.  “I’m sure you guys can come up with something else to do,” Louis continues, his eyes still lingering on Liam as he backs away toward the exit.  “And when you do, let me know.  I promise I’ll join you.”  Louis’ words are hurried before he finally makes it to the exit and feels like he can actually breathe again once he’s outside.

He slaps Harry’s arm harder than he probably should out of pure jitteriness.  “You _saw_ him, right?” he asks, walking down the barely lit sidewalks of the late evening in the direction he knows his house will be.  The only place he feels he can be safe right now is at home, in his _bedroom_ , where Liam can’t get to him even if he tries.

“Yeah, I did,” Harry replies.

Louis presses his hands against his cheeks as he shakes his head at the ground.  “God, when will this _stop_?  I can’t live like this forever!  I want him _gone_.”

The only sounds evident are the shaky huffs of Louis’ breaths, along with their footsteps as they continue to walk alongside each other.

Then, Harry speaks up.  “This rarely ever works, but have you tried reciting the chant again?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Louis says, his eyes full of distress as he looks at Harry’s profile.  “I’ve tried saying it again, I’ve tried saying it in reverse, I’ve tried saying it in _Latin_ — _everything_.”

Harry actually _laughs_ in response to what Louis’ said, and it seems he forgets to put his head down, because two sharp, particularly pointy fangs at opposite ends of Harry’s top row of teeth immediately catch Louis’ attention.  The sight of it causes Louis’ eyes to grow huge for half a second, but he simmers himself down, intent not to acknowledge it so that Harry doesn’t become self-conscious again.

When they reach his front lawn, Louis’ pretty sure the boy knows exactly what Louis is about to ask of him right now. 

Louis’ fairly certain his own worry is showing clearly on his face, which is probably why Harry’s having a hard time just calling it a night and declaring that he will see Louis tomorrow.  They stand there as the sound of a cricket in the distance symbolizes the approaching nighttime.

“Hey,” Louis begins, a sudden question popping up at the forefront of his mind.  “Why are you looking after me?” he asks curiously, his head tilting as he stares at Harry.  “Like, why do you…somewhat, care?”

“Spirits are weakened by our presence,” Harry pretty much mumbles, as though he’s not fully sure if he wants Louis to understand.  “That’s the way it’s always been.”

Louis swallows, processing what Harry’s said.

“So…when you’re around, Liam’s not as strong?” Louis asks, pointing at him.

“Yeah, pretty much,” Harry says with a nod as he buries his hands in his pockets.  “And I just knew that if I didn’t help you out with this in some way…look out for you…I would feel like shit for the rest of my life, which is a really long time.”

A side of Louis’ lips quirks up into a teasing grin as he presses the pads of his fingers together.  “So this is you trying to convince yourself you’re a good person?”

Harry narrows his eyes at him for a moment as he blows air out of his cheeks.  “Yeah.  That’s exactly what this is.”

“I’ll take it,” Louis replies with a smile.

They stand there in some more silence, and Louis is still mildly scared, but he _knows_ what Harry is going to say. 

The night before, after Louis’d claimed he needed Harry to Liam-proof his room because he didn’t know how to do it, the boy had gone through the specifics of each step, verbalizing them to Louis and making it so he’d never have to ask Harry to do it for him again.

Louis just doesn’t want to be alone right now.  Even if it is in the safety of his room.

“Do you need someone…” Harry starts, drawing his brows together as he concentrates on his shoes.  “To like…stay with you tonight?” he asks.  He can probably sense the silent desperation Louis is putting out.

“ _Sure_ ,” Louis replies excitedly, not even wasting a moment before grabbing a hold of Harry’s wrist and leading him towards his front door.

 

~*~

 

 

“Olive, come _on_ ,” Louis says exhaustedly from where he’s kneeling down in front of his closet.  His cat has vehemently _refused_ to come out of there for the duration of the ten minutes Harry’s currently been in his room.

The yellows of her eyes are pretty much the only visible part of her as she remains buried in the dark shadows of his closet, obviously feeling that her aversion to Harry is more important than the fact that Louis needs to walk around with her in his arms right about now.

“C’mon Liv Liv,” Louis tries, moving his voice up a pitch as he gestures behind him.  “There’s an _amazing_ yarn ball waiting for you on the other side of the room, where there’s actually _light_.”

“Do you always talk to it like this?” Harry asks.

Louis lifts his head to find Harry stood near his bed frame, examining the various dream catchers that hang off of it.

“Um, do you mean _her_?” Louis asks.  “No wonder she doesn’t even want to stay in the same room as you.”

Harry seems to ignore him as he picks up one of the dream catchers, twirling it in the air as his eyes continue to study the feathers thoroughly.

Louis suddenly begins to feel a little bad when he remembers the fact that he hadn’t even given a thought as to whether Harry had other things he’d been wanting to do for the rest of the evening.  Instead he’d just trapped the boy in his bedroom for his own selfish needs.

“Sorry if I deprived you of doing something better tonight,” Louis says, getting up to his feet.  “You probably had other plans to do more appealing stuff, like play video games or nap.”

“I don’t do either of those things.”

Oh, right.  Vampires don’t sleep, duh.  Louis knew that.

Louis completely disregards the fact that Harry is preoccupied with looking around his room when he goes over and excitedly grabs him by both of his hands, before pulling him over to quickly sit down on the bed.

“We can pull such a fun all-nighter now!” Louis exclaims, Harry’s face remaining confused and caught off-guard.   Louis can sense that the boy has absolutely no idea of what he’s talking about as he continues to hold that lost facial expression, so Louis explains.  “You know…it’s when friends stay up all night without going to sleep, and…” Louis clasps his hands together as his mind begins to conjure up endless scenarios.  “We do a bunch of fun stuff.  Like, we can watch a lot of movies, find out what our witch names are, we can even carve _pumpkins_ —I have some under my bed actually—“

“Wait— _wait_ ,” Harry cuts in, causing Louis to pause his action of reaching under his bed to see if he can retrieve one.  “Stop.  We’re…we’re not friends.”

Louis settles himself back into the bed, sighing profusely as he continues to _despise_ the fact that Harry is like this.

“Why do you keep doing this?” Louis asks exhaustedly.

“ _Because_ ,” Harry starts, pulling his feet up on the bed and bringing his knees into his chest as he wraps his arms around them.  “I’m…I don’t want to have friends.  I’m not even supposed to be seen or spoken to, so the fact that I’m even here is breaking so many of my own rules—“

“Why are you even making those _miserable_ rules for yourself?”

“Because if I don’t fade into the background, if I allow myself to be noticed, make myself seen,” Harry continues, his voice growing stronger.  “If people start _talking_ to me and _acknowledging_ the fact that I exist, they’re gonna wanna know more about me, and it won’t be long before they know what I _am_.”

Then he’s silent for a moment, and his breathing is noticeably heavier than before.

He then directs his eyes to Louis, his stare sharp.  “You’re the prime example.”

“Yeah, but I’m not _telling_ anybody!”

“No, but now I’ve ended up in a situation where I have to watch your friends stare at me crazy because I won’t eat anything,” Harry says.  “It doesn’t take much long after hanging out with me for a person to realize I’m strange.  Having friends is just something I can’t do.”

Louis goes quiet, resting his hands on top of each other on his lap as he thinks of what to say.  He can’t help feeling bad, even though he knows that no matter what, he would’ve found out about who Harry actually was regardless.

“Look…” Louis begins shuffling a bit closer towards Harry as he brings his voice to a low level.  By now Harry has caved in on himself, the tips of his fingers nearly gripping the fabric of his jeans as he remains curled up.

“Although my situation isn’t and never will be _anywhere_ as dramatic as yours,” Louis starts, before moving a hesitant hand out to grip Harry’s ankle.  “I can tell you that I understand.  I understand being on the outside and feeling discouraged because you’re not like everyone else.”

Louis’ eyes are unfocused as he speaks, clearly getting lost in his own words and the emotions behind them.  “Like…yeah, I hang with Zayn and Niall, but…sometimes I feel like they’re just friends with me out of pity,” Louis continues, laughing a bit dryly.  “As though they feel like they need to.”  Louis refocuses his gaze back on Harry, and the boy is actually looking at him this time, and the bedroom has become deafeningly silent and quietly thunderous all at the same time.  “I’m alone too, and I’m here for you.  I’m sorry if I made things a little hard today—I wasn’t thinking,” he says, shaking his head at himself.  “I’ll try my best to be the person that makes you feel like you can be yourself, no matter what.  Promise.”

Louis doesn’t even notice the fact that Olive has hopped onto the bed and is now freely strutting around on the mattress because he’s too invested in holding gaze with Harry and reassuring the boy that he is _here_ for him, in every sense of the word.

After what seems like a long while, Harry averts his eyes as he focuses on Louis’ rug, his eyebrows knitting together.  “It’s just…” he exhales, his fingers now holding onto himself more loosely.  “I had to sacrifice a lot for this life.”

Louis’ not entirely sure what he means, but he’s also not sure if he wants to ask the boy to elaborate.  He is through with pushing the boy to his limits in order to get him to open up.  He wants the boy to be as comfortable as possible, and for him to say anything he needs to say, exactly when he wants to say it.  For once, Louis will be _patient_.

They share the silence of Louis’ bedroom (save for Olive purring as she finally settles against his pillows) before Harry lets his legs down and slides off of the bed within seconds.

“Sorry, but I’ve been fucking _starving_ for hours now,” Harry says, and Louis doesn’t even get time to process the meaning of his words before the boy is effortlessly sliding open his bedroom window and stepping onto the windowsill.

Louis’ sat there with his jaw slack, the breeze from the open window grazing his face and reminding him that Harry’d literally just jumped out of his room like it was nothing.  Sure, it’s a first story window, but it’s still ten feet up and Louis definitely wouldn’t ever take such a risk.

Louis figures he’ll be back, so he tries not to dwell on it too much, and instead busies himself with changing into more comfortable clothes for the night and getting started on some of his math homework.  He definitely doesn’t think about the fact that his very own new best friend is currently sucking the blood out of a random person’s body, most likely after having probably snuck up on them while they were alone in the middle of the night.  He definitely doesn’t think about that.

When Harry actually _does_ come back, right through the window he’d left out of, Louis has only managed to finish one math problem.  He’s laid on his bed with Olive nearly asleep next to him, and his mind has been going non-stop, despite the fact that he’d wanted to stop thinking about it.

It takes Harry a while to get his left leg through the window, but eventually he does with a tired grunt, and he steps into Louis’ room as he wipes his sleeve against his mouth.

“That was quite a workout,” Harry says, right before stretching his arms out and joining Louis on his bed.  His eyes wander over to the open math textbook laid next to Olive, and he raises his eyebrows, completely oblivious to how Louis has been gawking at him nonstop since he’s arrived.

“I completely forgot about the math homework tonight,” Harry says before closing his eyes and letting out a sigh.  “Guess I’ll wing it in the morning.”

Louis finally shakes his head to life as he shifts his attention back to his math textbook.  “Yeah—It’s…it’s really difficult, anyway,” Louis says, partially distracted as he closes his book.  “Was just about to give up on it.”

Louis gathers his homework materials in his hands before setting them on the dresser next to his bed, all while Harry seems to be resting his eyes.

He brings himself a bit closer to Harry when he settles back on his side, setting his right hand in Olive’s fur as she continues to lay between them.

“So…” Louis starts, his eyes unmoving as they remain on Harry.

“Hmm?” Harry asks, quirking an eyebrow up as his eyes remain closed.

“Do…” Louis starts, taking a moment to swallow.  “So you actually drink people’s blood and stuff, huh?”

Harry’s eyes finally open again, and he looks tired, although Louis’ certain such an emotion isn’t even possible for him.

“Yeah,” he replies, before setting a hand underneath his own head.

Louis scoots forward just a bit more, bringing his cheek down to nuzzle against Olive’s fur, keeping half of his face hidden as his innocent eyes peek up at Harry.  “So people…die?”

Harry noticeably gulps before opening his mouth to answer, his volume lower than it's been all night.  “Actually, I try to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

The questioning look in Louis’ eyes is enough for Harry to understand that the boy wants him to explain.

“Like…I stop before it gets too much,” Harry says.  “Before they pass out.  Then I move onto the next person.  Usually just makes them super lightheaded, like how people are when they’ve just given a blood donation.  But at least they’re not dead.”

Louis’ lips rise into a slow smirk on one side, which Harry doesn’t see because he continues to keep his eyes forward.  Louis thinks it’s sweet, but obviously, Harry isn’t too proud of it.

“But…” Harry starts, his voice now almost a whisper as he brings his hands in front of his chest and begins fumbling with them nervously.  “It’s not always so easy to control myself.”

Louis doesn’t say anything, instead choosing to continue to watch Harry’s profile and remember how he’s supposed to be his safe space.  How he’s supposed to give him room to open up without pushing him.

Harry’s voice is hardly even heard by Louis when he speaks up again.  “It happened once.  Don’t judge me.”

Louis reaches out with his left hand that’s not occupied with Olive’s fur, and he brings his fingers up to stroke at the hair at the crown of Harry’s head.  The boy immediately tilts his head toward his touch, although he still refuses to look at him directly.

Louis attempts to steer the night in a less depressing direction by retracting his hand from Harry’s hair and snuggling back up to Olive.

“She seems to be finally taking a liking to you,” Louis says, lifting one of her paws and nudging it in Harry’s direction.  “I’m surprised she’s not biting you right now.”

Harry laughs lightly as he turns his head toward Olive, touching the palm of his hand to her paw as Louis holds it out.  Then, his eyes shift up to where Louis’ eyes are awaiting his, and Louis stretches his lips into a sweet grin.  The boy’s fangs are on full display, and as beautiful as the sight is, as gorgeous as the boy’s radiant smile is, the best part about it is that Harry doesn’t care.  He’s no longer cognizant about keeping his head down, not laughing in order to conceal his smile, keeping himself caged in. 

“I’m not judging you,” Louis says softly.  “I never will.”

It seems Harry’s more comfortable now about this, because the tension leaves his body as he shifts into a more reclined position and starts speaking casually.  “I mean, I can like… _feel_ when I’m about to lose control of myself.  My senses become heightened, and my mouth starts watering more than usual—and my _eyes_.  My eyes, they…” Harry starts, clearly imagining the whole thing in vivid detail as he looks up at nothing.  “I usually just tie myself up when I start to feel it.”

Louis’ mouth gapes open for a moment.  “You _tie yourself up_?  _Where_?” he asks incredulously.

“Where I live.”

There’s a single beat of silence as Louis reflects on his words and what they suggest.

“Show me,” Louis says, his voice confident and his eyes certain.

Harry looks at him questioningly, but Louis remains solid.

“Show me where you live.”

Harry sees no reason to argue with that, and Louis is already bursting with impending adrenaline when the boy slides off of the bed and walks toward his bedroom door.

“Wait—now you suddenly _don’t_ want to take the window?” Louis asks, standing in the middle of his room while Harry swings open the door.

“Well, that depends.  Can _you_ survive a jump from any height without injuries?”

 

~*~

 

Harry lives in the woods.

Not even just the casual, ordinary woods that Louis rides through in the mornings, but the _deep_ woods, where Louis’ deathly afraid of wolves coming out of nowhere in order to attack at any moment.

Harry had shown Louis what he considered his “home”, which consisted of a small area where the trees weren’t as dense, as well as a tiny lake nearby that the boy claimed “had really pretty colors during the daytime”.

“The sun, like—you should see it—the way the sun hits it during the day, _especially_ when it’s nearing evening time, is amazing,” Harry explains, nearly getting lost while talking about it as Louis stands nearby.  “It turns all sorts of pretty colors.”

Louis pinches his fingers together as he takes cautious steps around, his eyes darting every time he hears a faint noise.  A tiny branch breaks underneath his foot and he tries to ignore how viciously his heart jumps.

“So this is where you are when you’re not at school or at my house?” Louis asks hesitantly, hardly even being able to see Harry in the frigid darkness.

“Yep,” Harry replies, leaning his back against the nearest tree and crossing his arms in front of his chest.  “This is my home.”

Louis’ not sure what to think, which is a recurring emotion he’s had to experience several times by now after having befriended Harry.  He has questions— _so_ many questions, but he suppresses them, instead opting to ask the obvious.

“How do you tie yourself up?”

Harry crouches down next to the very tree he’d been leaning on, and he pointedly grips a thick rope wrapped around the base of it that Louis hadn’t even noticed before.

“I tie my wrists up and keep myself chained to this tree until I can calm down,” Harry says, before letting go of the rope and allowing it to hit the ground again.  “Sometimes it takes a while.  _Hours_ even.”

“And you just starve the whole time?” Louis asks, walking up to Harry and sitting down along with the boy.

“Yep,” Harry replies, resting his back against the trunk again as he brings his knees up to his chest, just like before in Louis’ bedroom.  Louis’ eyes are beginning to adjust to the darkness and he can definitely see the tiny twinkle in the boy’s eye as he fixates his gaze on the still lake.

“What about…family?” Louis asks, bringing himself in as close as what’s comfortable, intent not to leave too much space between him and this secluded, fragile boy.

A crow caws loudly in the distance and Louis swallows.

“I don’t know,” Harry says with a simple shrug.  “I don’t remember.  I don’t remember anything from my past life, before I turned this way.”

Louis says nothing as he brings a sympathetic hand down to Harry’s leg, gripping it and wishing he could ask so many things.

“I wish I knew what happened,” Harry practically whispers, Louis continuing to keep the physical contact.  “Like…if I was just caught in the wrong place at the wrong time, or if it was actually _my_ choice…like, if I _decided_ that this was who I wanted to become, and told someone to inject their venom into me.”

Louis presses the side of his head against the tree trunk as he remains facing Harry, sliding his hand up and down the boy’s leg for comfort.

“If that _is_ the case, I just,” Harry starts, before releasing a heavy breath.  “I really wish I knew why he…I mean _I_ did it.  Sometimes…I wish he hadn’t.”

Louis brings one of his hands up to Harry’s face, moving some of his hair away from where it’s ghosting over his cheeks.  Just like earlier, the boy subtly inches into the touch, but doesn’t fully set his gaze on Louis, mostly out of shame for who he is, who he’s become, and Louis just wants to let him know that it’s _okay_.

“Well, obviously,” Louis whispers, moving his hand down to Harry’s chin and lifting it so that the boy can finally look at him.  “ _I’m_ glad he did it.”

Harry’s finally looking at him, and their faces are drifting into close proximity with one another.  Louis wishes he could lock the vivid details of this moment in his memory forever, the glow of the crescent moon in Harry’s eyes, his seemingly translucent skin in the dark, the heavenly feeling of the boy’s chin upon his fingertips—he wants to remember every single aspect of it.

One moment Harry’s eyes are staring into his, and the next moment the boy’s eyes are shifting down, and—

The loudest crash Louis’ pretty sure he has ever heard in his life abuses Louis’ eardrums.  Louis’ almost certain it’s a large tree that has fallen down in the distance, and to a normal person, it would be nothing to worry about, but at this point, Louis knows better.

Harry probably brings himself a lot of pain when he lets his head fall hard against the tree trunk out of frustration, and Louis bites the inside of his cheek, simply waiting for it.

“Oh wow!  You guys are on a little _date_!” comes his voice, loud and thunderous.  “How _cute_.”

It seems Harry’s had enough as he gets to his feet within seconds, and sure enough, Liam is standing right there when Louis twists his head enough to finally look for him.

“Just leave him alone,” Harry says sharply.

Louis remains exactly where he’s sat, and now _he’s_ the one bringing his knees up to his chest as Liam continues to stand just a _few feet away_.

He watches as Liam backs away from Harry for a  moment before jumping up and gripping onto the nearest tree branch, hoisting himself up into the tree and climbing his way about twenty feet high in a matter of ten seconds.

“He didn’t leave _me_ alone, now did he?” Liam asks, and Louis can just _picture_ the cheeky grin on his face as he swings from a high tree branch with both hands.

Louis tries his best to stop the sudden shaking of his finger tips, but it doesn’t work as his eyes remain glued to Liam’s every movement.  In his peripheral he can see Harry’s fists beginning to clench from where they remain at his sides.

Louis’ pretty sure the only reason he doesn’t immediately bolt once Liam jumps from the tree he’s swinging from to the very one Louis is sitting under, is because he’s frozen from shock.  He doesn’t even look up as Liam remains high in the branches above him—he just watches as Harry’s glare follows his movements, the boy’s jaw beginning to tighten.

“You know he doesn’t know any better,” Harry says, almost through gritted teeth.

“Well, guess what?” Liam replies, followed by a long, eerie pause as Louis buries his face deeper into his knees. 

What Louis is pretty sure is the exact same crow caws in the distance once again, and the cold wind picks up a bit, causing an unsettling whistle to sound throughout the air.

“Neither do I,” Liam says easily, and Louis looks up at him at the same moment that he kicks a tree branch out from underneath him—a _humongous_ tree branch.

Louis’ certain he’s done for, due to the fact that he doesn’t move as he literally _watches_ the huge thing come down upon him at maximum speed.  He doesn’t try to run, or scream, or anything of the sort—he just uses the next few seconds to accept his fate before the giant thing crushes him.

Just as Louis squeezes his eyes shut, certain his life is over, it takes him just a little longer than necessary to realize—nothing is happening.

He opens his eyes again just in time to see the large tree branch that was once soaring towards him and preparing to crush him to bits, seemingly smacked away in mid-air—by some _imaginary force_ , and it is now being hurled the other way.  It comes to a hard crash several feet away from Louis and creates a horrid echo throughout the woods as Louis remains both dumbfounded and shaken.

The ground literally _vibrates_ where Louis is sitting when Liam leaps down from the tree and lands on both feet with a fist on the ground.  For a second, Louis thinks the boy is coming towards him, but he actually advances toward _Harry._

“Stop _ruining_ this for me Harry,” Liam practically growls, now mirroring the boy as he balls up his fists as well.  Liam looks much more intimidating though, Louis can admit.

Harry remains unmoving, seemingly unaffected by Liam’s sudden temper, and Louis doesn’t know whether he should be scared for him or not.

“He doesn’t know any better, right?” Liam asks with a snarl, stopping a mere five feet away from Harry.  The wind is starting to pick up substantially, bringing the many leaves to soar over the ground and Louis to shiver more than he already had been.

“ _I_ didn’t know any better!” Liam yells through clenched teeth.  “But I didn’t get a second chance, _did_ I?”

And then the powerful push of the wind causes another branch on the tree Louis’ sat near to come loose, and Louis doesn’t even get to register it before it’s coming down, right in his direction just like the last one, probably courtesy of Liam.

It doesn’t strike him either.

It soars the other way at the last second, just like before.

Louis finally brings his eyes to look at Liam once again, and the boy is utterly _infuriated_. 

The tree Louis’ leaned against begins to shift a bit, as though it’s literally being pulled from its roots, and the movement of it shoves Louis forward as he actually begins to _panic_.

“Just stop trying,” Harry says exhaustedly, the boy now rubbing his fingers over both of his temples, as though a migraine has hit him.  “Give it up.”

The trunk of the tree jerks Louis’ body forward again, and the entire thing seems to be on a sort of tilt now, but it’s not falling over, probably like Liam is expecting it to.

That’s when it hits Louis, the exact words Harry’d said earlier. 

Not that Louis had doubted him, but the boy had been speaking the truth.  Liam is most definitely weakened by Harry’s presence, which is why he hasn’t succeeded in squashing Louis like a bug, despite his numerous attempts.

 _Stop ruining this for me Harry_.  It all makes sense now.

Despite the fact that there’s now a sprinkle of relief settling in Louis’ chest, he still feels riddled with panic and almost terrified because of how angry this is all obviously making Liam.  He can’t imagine what the boy will try and do now if he ever stumbles upon Louis when he’s not with Harry.  Louis will just have to make sure that doesn’t ever happen.

“I’ll catch you alone, Tomlinson,” Liam says, his voice threateningly low as the wind dwindles and the leaves and twigs finally begin to settle.  “No matter how long it takes me, I’ll get this done.  And if I have to, I’ll do it in broad daylight.”

And with that, he’s gone.

Louis can literally _feel_ him gone without even turning his head to check, because he instantly feels an ounce of ease at the absence of his presence.  The woods are now back to its normal autumn chill, in contrast to the harsh cold of the wind Liam had brought along with him.

Louis is still trembling, however.

“Don’t be scared,” Harry says, his voice quiet.

“I’m-I’m not,” Louis replies, forcing out a breathy laugh. 

Harry walks over to him and reaches down just enough to pull Louis by his arm, helping the boy to his feet.  It takes much longer than Louis is willing to admit to get him to unravel, but Harry aids him through it.

Louis’ eye catches the damaged and withered tree branch in the distance, one of the two that was intended to hurt him.

“What was that?” Louis asks, pointing a lazy finger at it.  He just has to hope Harry understands his question, because he doesn’t have the strength to be articulate right about now.

“That was me,” Harry replies, casually placing his hands in his pockets as he begins on the journey, most likely, back to Louis’ house.  Louis blindly follows close next to him, desperate to be near someone.

“This whole gig comes with a bit of telekinesis, I found out,” Harry adds.

“You moved it…on your own?” Louis asks, not even realizing how he’s now gripped both hands onto Harry’s bicep as they continue to walk.  “Why am I just now finding out about this?”

“I don’t do it much,” Harry replies.  “I try not to ever do it.  It requires too much power, so thank you for this massive headache.”  He rubs at his forehead with his hand that’s attached to the arm that Louis _isn’t_ holding onto for dear life.

Louis is a lot more comfortable once they finally exit the woods and approach an actual _street_ corner after what seems like an eternity, and because it’s simply in his nature, he decides to attempt to lighten the mood.

“So is this all-nighter best friendship thing going _great_ so far, or what?” Louis asks as they step in sync with one another. 

Harry decides to respond to him by shoving him lightly, one side of his lips inching upward as Louis grows a fraction of a grin.

By the time they get back to Louis’ bedroom, Louis has reverted back to his usual talkative, curious, and borderline annoying self.  He’s actually forgotten all about his short-lived promise of respecting Harry by not drilling him too much, because by the time they’re lying back in bed, he’s pretty sure he’s asked Harry thirty questions.

Louis’ decided to ignore the unwanted sleepiness beginning to enter his being as he rests his head against his pillow and continues to talk Harry’s ear off.

“So like… _how_ do you move things?” Louis slightly mumbles, his eyes almost lidded.

“For the third time, I just _do_ ,” Harry replies with a light giggle as he faces Louis, propping his head up on his fist.  “There’s no steps on how to do it or anything.”

“That makes no sense,” Louis says, followed by a yawn as he knits his eyebrows together.

“Every answer I’ve given you so far _makes no sense_.”

“How do you just…not eat?” Louis asks, his words almost inaudible as he fights the urge to fall asleep.  “I mean, you _can_ eat, can’t you?  You won’t die if you do, will you?”

“I _can_ , I just don’t need to, and it’s a chore,” Harry replies, messing with his bottom lip between his index finger and thumb.  “Why would I wanna put useless things in my body, you know?”

“For the taste,” Louis replies with a tired grin, his eyes milliseconds away from slipping shut.  “You _do_ have a tongue, don’t you?” Louis asks tiredly, before lifting one of his hands toward Harry’s face.

Harry grabs a hold of the boy’s hand before it can touch his mouth, and he brings it back down to the mattress gently.  “Yes, I _do_ have a tongue.  I just don’t care to eat.”

“So you’ve never tasted cheesecake before?”

“Nope.”

“Wow, that sucks…” Louis replies, his voice fading out as his body finally gives into sleep.

The last thing Louis sees before his eyes fall closed is Harry, perfectly awake and staring at him with those wide, green beauties of his that Louis never thought he’d get to see up close.

 

~*~

 

Louis pushes his bicycle against the grass field near the school parking lot with a grunt, thoroughly exhausted from the long bike ride and ready for the school day to be over before it has even started.

He’d ridden with Harry that morning, after several minutes of insisting to the boy that it would be fun and that all he had to do was balance his feet on the back of it and hold onto Louis’ waist from behind.  Louis had really been in the mood to ride through the woods today, and he knew that he wouldn’t have anything to worry about if Harry was there with him.  Just like he’d predicted, they didn’t come across any particular bumps or _mean spirited demons_ while riding, only accompanied by the occasional breeze and the soft steadiness of both of their breaths.

Harry hadn’t even spent another second next to Louis upon arriving near the school, and instead tipped his head to the boy before walking off, swinging his hoodie on over his hair and reverting back to the Harry everyone else knew and loved—well actually, the exact opposite.

Now Louis was making his way toward Niall and Zayn where he’d spotted them from a distance, sitting on the roof of Niall’s rusty car and sharing some kind of burrito.

“After I just saw Harry walking up the steps, I knew you weren’t far behind,” Niall says upon noticing Louis’ approach. 

“You spend a lot of time with him now,” Zayn points out, before biting down on his half of the messy burrito that Niall had torn for him.

“I mean, we’re friends,” Louis replies, grinning down at himself for half a second.  “He needs a friend.  I’m being that for him.”

“Well…” Zayn starts, pursing his lips together as he seemingly ponders what to say.  “He’s uh…he seems nice.”

“He’s a fuckin weirdo,” Niall comments.  He’s never been the kind to sugarcoat anything.  “Where did you find him?”

Regardless of the fact that this kind of blunt statement is common coming from Niall, Louis still takes offense to what he says, and he’s pretty sure his face shows it. 

“He’s…he’s not weird,” Louis says a bit shyly, before he bites down on the corner of his lip, ignoring both Niall and Zayn’s eyes now focused relentlessly on him.  “Well, actually he is.  But weird isn’t bad.”

“Whatever man,” Niall replies, his mouth half full. 

“So are you coming to that Halloween party this weekend?” Zayn asks.  “The invite they gave out made it seem like it’s gonna be _huge_.”

Louis shakes his head as he opens his mouth, joining his hands in front of himself.  “I didn’t know about it.  Guess I didn’t get an invitation.”

Niall and Zayn share that _look_ that Louis has gotten used to by now.  It’s that look of disguised pity that they give each other whenever they’re reminded of how much of an outsider Louis is compared to them, and it always has a pinch of sympathy behind it.  Louis absolutely hates that shared look.

“I’m pretty sure anyone can come anyway,” Zayn adds hesitantly.

“Yeah,” Niall says with a shrug.  “The invitation was probably just to help get the word out.”

Louis does nothing but offer them a tight grin, intent to end this conversation and begin on his journey inside the school.

“Maybe you can even bring Harry too, because it seems like he doesn’t get out much,” Niall adds.

Despite the absurdity of the idea, it still seems to spark something within Louis, because…it’s quite _possible_.  It’s so absurd it’s actually a _good_ idea.

Harry doesn’t seem to think the same when Louis brings it up to him after school, when they’re sitting on some swings in the neighborhood playground after Louis had gotten tired of biking on the way home.

“I thought you said you’d stop doing this,” Harry says tiredly, his arms wrapped around the harnesses of the swing as both of them sway back and forth with the light wind.

“Hear me out,” Louis says, the toes of his shoes skidding across the gravel underneath.  “This is _Halloween_.  You can be anything you want, and no one will even notice you when we’re back at school.”

“It’s still risky.”

“C’mon,” Louis says, reaching out and lifting Harry’s chin (which he’s started doing a lot lately without really noticing—he just wants the boy to _look_ at him).  “Now you’re just being a scaredy cat.”

“No ‘m not,” Harry says, only slightly pouting as he looks at Louis.  He drops his eyes back down to his chest as he shakes his head.  “I just—I dunno about a party.”

“It’ll be fun.”

“Who will I even be?  I don’t own any costumes.”

This is Louis’ time to finally _shine_ , because he lives for moments like these, where he gets to flex both his creative skills _and_ his colorful mind.  His thoughts are moving rapidly as he flies through various costumes he could put Harry in, and it takes him about thirty seconds before he finally decides.

He’s pretty sure he’s a little _too_ thrilled when he finally says it.  “You can be _Edward._ ”

Harry’s big eyes blink at him for a moment, and his mouth opens long before he says any actual words.  “Who?”

“You don’t watch much television, do you?” Louis asks, before reaching out with both hands and holding Harry’s face between his palms as he envisions how Harry will look.  “I did makeup for the film club when they were throwing a Christmas play last year, so I know how to transform you, give you more of a dead, cold look.”

Harry continues to remain thoroughly puzzled as Louis moves his face around, nearly squeezing his cheeks.

“Oh—and the cool things I could do to your _hair_ ,” Louis continues, now in awe as he studies Harry’s face and imagines the finished product.  “This is a challenge I fully accept.”

Louis finally brings himself back down to earth to find that Harry is staring at him, almost inquisitively as they hold gaze and Louis continues to caress his face.

“…what?” Louis asks, letting his hands down.

Harry shakes his head as his swing begins to sway just a bit more.  “You’re just so effortlessly yourself.”

“What do you mean?” Louis asks, pushing his feet against the ground in order to get some swinging action going.

“Like…even though people think you’re pretty strange,” Harry starts.  “And you even get teased for it, you’re still so confident about who you are.”

Louis tries to disguise the fact that he goes completely soft on the inside after Harry says that.  He just continues to lightly swing back and forth as the descending sun begins to paint vivid colors across the sky.

“And so _loud_ about it,” Harry adds with a chuckle.

Louis pushes his shoulder and can’t help the fact that he giggles right along with him.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> we love louis' character and we know he has ultimately good intentions...jus remember dat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *trigger warning*  
> there is a homophobic slur in this chapter
> 
> also the next chapter is the last chapter!

 

 

Louis’ persuasive skills actually prove themselves to have an effect, because by the end of the week, all of them—all  _four_ of them—are in Niall’s bedroom, prepping for an eventful night.  Harry still doesn’t seem all that  _into it_ if Louis’ being honest, but he’s here, and he’s cooperating, and he’s actually standing still for once as Louis stands in front of him in Niall’s bathroom and works a round brush into his hair as he blow dries it (if the boy’s quiff isn’t perfect then there’s really no point).

“How much longer will this take?” Harry asks as he scratches behind his ear, only wincing a bit from the pull of the comb.

“I add a minute for every time you ask that question,” Louis replies matter-of-factly.

Louis had already done the boy’s special effects makeup, utilizing powder in order to cause him to appear paler than he already is, and using both a light blush and dark shade to give him more of an angelic, chiseled look.  He even finished off with painting a bit of fake, deep red blood trailing down the boy’s chin, and providing the boy with bright hazel colored contacts to cover his eyes.  Obviously, Louis had put a lot of work into Harry’s costume—definitely more than his  _own_.

Louis’ pretty sure the only thing saving his own costume is his detailed makeup, because he’d thought of it at the last minute upon remembering that he’d gotten a box full of the different bones of the human skeleton at some secluded creepy market a few months before (he’s had to tell Harry three times that  _no_ , they aren’t real human bones).  He has on a loose, black body suit and has secured every single bone to their respective spot, and it looks alarmingly realistic and unnerving, just the way Louis likes it, complete with his harshly shaded makeup in order to resemble the face of a skeleton, as well as the bony teeth.  He’s quite satisfied with his look, although he’s not quite sure how much longer he can take the clanking of the bones together every time he moves.

Zayn pops in just as Louis’ finishing up Harry’s hair, and he comes to a slow stop behind Harry as he looks at the both of them in the mirror.  He’s dressed up in some half-assed pirate costume, complete with an eye patch, an all black, tight leather outfit, and the end of a hanger taped to his wrist. 

“Jesus, Louis.  You look horrifying,” Zayn says, just as Louis’ turning off the blow dryer.  He sets his hands on Harry’s shoulders as he comes up behind the boy, looking at him in the mirror.  “And Harry…you look—“ he takes the time to turn the boy around, examining him in awe.  “You look hot.”

“Um,” Harry starts, scratching at his cheek as he moves out of Zayn’s reach.  “Thanks, I guess.”

“That means I did a great job!” Louis exclaims, delightedly clasping his hands together.

“Jesus, can we  _leave_  now?” comes Niall’s voice from his bedroom, where he’s probably burying his face in his pillow.  “I thought only girls took this long to get ready.”

“Maybe if you’d actually put in  _effort_  for your costume, you’d be taking this long too,” Louis says as he exits the bathroom and goes over to pull on Niall’s leg.  Just as expected, the boy  _is_  spread across the messy blankets upon his bed, face half burrowed in his pillow.

Niall’s costume is probably the most creative out of all of them; he’s simply wearing a sweatshirt and sweatpants, both of which are black, and he also has on black tennis shoes.  He claims he is “the void”.

“I don’t care about that shit,” Niall replies as he turns over and rests on his back.  “I’m only going to this party to see what the girls are dressed like.”

“Well, here’s a spoiler for you,” Zayn says.  “They’re all cats.”

Louis finds Harry still in the bathroom, examining his hair and bearing no distinctive facial expression to indicate whether he likes how he looks or not.

Louis pulls him forward by the collar of the large, gray pea coat he’d let the boy borrow.  “Please, excuse their sexism,” he says, Harry half-grinning as he directs his attention to Louis, who is now smoothing out the jacket at his shoulders.  “You’re gonna try to have fun, right?” Louis asks quietly, his eyes hopeful as they blink up at Harry.  “I don’t wanna think about, like, Liam, or anything.”

Harry nods along with him as he closes his eyes for a moment.  “Okay.”

When they actually  _do_ reach the party after enduring a horrific car ride courtesy of Niall, Louis couldn’t have been more delighted that the first thing Harry did once they’d entered through the front door was laugh about having gotten caught in one of the many cobwebs set up, hanging in front of the entrance of the crowded venue.  The only downside is that the boy bows his head down, as he usually does in public settings.

Louis doesn’t hesitate to reach out and lift it with two of his fingers, bringing the boy’s eyes to meet his.

“Hey, you’re  _supposed_  to be a vampire,” Louis says, hardly able to hear himself over some synth-drenched eighties song blasting.  “You don’t need to hide that gorgeous smile of yours tonight.”

The slowest shy grin spreads across Harry’s lips in response to that, and they share a soft moment before Harry delicately shoves the boy’s hand away from his chin.

“Louis, who’s your friend?” comes a voice that sounds mildly familiar, but not familiar  _enough_  for Louis to understand why this person would be talking to him.

Louis turns his head toward the voice, and finds out it belongs to some guy in a lazy Danny Zuko get-up, whose name Louis is pretty certain is Blake, A.K.A one of the many clones of boys who don’t care for Louis’ eccentricity and often tease him to get in with their friends.

So yeah, Louis  _definitely_  doesn’t know why this guy is talking to him right now, but he’ll make nice.

“Um…this is…” Louis starts, gesturing at Harry for a moment as his mouth comes to a slow stop.  “Um—he’s dressed up as Edward Cullen.  That’s who he’s supposed to be.”

“Sick,” the guy says, shoving one of his hands in the pockets of his black jeans as he scans Harry up and down and completely forgets about Louis’ existence.  “There’s a girl here who came dressed up as Bella, I have to show you,” he says, and he’s grabbing Harry’s forearm and pulling him along before the boy has even said any words.  Instantly, Harry’s hand reaches out and grabs onto Louis’ sleeve, probably intent to have the boy by his side at all times throughout the night.

Just as promised, there  _is_  a girl there that’s dressed as Bella (the effort she put in is nowhere  _near_  Louis’, but whatever), and Harry’s forced into conversation with a whole group of party-goers who seem to be so  _fascinated_  by how he looks and the fact that they’ve never seen him before. 

Louis busies himself with leaning against the nearest wall as the colorful lights within the party continue to flicker and Harry’s attention is sufficiently stolen away from him.  The boy even starts to seem like he’s enjoying it as the minutes go by, because his smile starts to appear less forced and much more genuine.  He doesn’t even flinch when several hands run through his hair, followed by “wow, it’s so  _soft_ ”’s and unknown guys weaving him into their conversations about how he looks like he’d be a good addition to the football team.

Harry’s replies are still quite short and vague, but Louis’ pretty sure that at this point everyone thinks it’s an extended part of his costume.

At one point Louis actually gets  _nudged_  out of the way once some other guy enters the conversation and doesn’t care for Louis’ presence, and that’s when Louis decides that he’s over this.  He’s going to at  _least_  admire some decorations or  _something._

Just as he pushes himself up and away from the wall he’s been leaned against, Harry’s head snaps in his direction, the boy’s eyes inquisitive.  “Where’re you going?” he asks softly, and every head turns in Louis’ direction, as though they’re just now realizing he’d been there.

“Um—I’m just gonna look around,” Louis says with a forced grin.  “Check out the candy arrangement, and stuff.”

Without another word, Louis turns on his heel with intent to do exactly that, not awaiting any other words from Harry.  He really doesn’t want to drag the boy down while he seems to actually be having a splendid time, so he thinks it’s best to subtract his negative presence.

When Louis walks into another cobweb and has to spit it out of his mouth several times in order to get rid of it, he’s much less endeared by it than he was before.  He still can’t deny that the party is quite impressive, because there’s obviously a lot of attention paid to detail, with the plastic spiders and beetles stuck to the walls, a decorative candy arrangement filled to the brim with candy corn, gummy worms, and lollipops, slimy green beverages that Louis’ not sure if he trusts or not, colorfully dark strobe lights (that are actually beginning to make Louis a little dizzy).  All of this still doesn’t make Louis feel better about the fact that his friend is having so much fun without him right now.

He finds Niall outside on the deck after he’s taken a handful of gummy worms from the candy arrangement.  The boy is situated against the brick wall smoking a cigarette, separate from the majority of the people who are occupying the deck and doing more mellowed activities, like getting high or playing cards while giggly and drunk.

“Not satisfied with the chicks tonight?” Louis asks, his mouth half full as he steps in front of the boy.

Niall exhales the smoke out of the corner of his mouth as he crosses his arms.  “I am, but they’re not satisfied with me.  I don’t think I’m getting lucky tonight, and I came to this party for nothing.”

“What happened?”

“ _I can tell you didn’t put any thought into that costume_ ,” Niall says with a mocking tone, before taking another drag out of his cigarette.  “As if I’m gonna actually go through hours of putting together some gay costume just to bed some chick.”

Louis takes a step back as he raises both of his eyebrows, gesturing down at himself pointedly.

“No offense,” Niall adds, before exhaling more smoke.

Louis pats Niall on the shoulder as he moves to make his way back into the party.  “Some taken, pal.”

Louis’ determined to make his way back to Harry in order to keep an eye on him or talk to him or just be  _near_  him, because he always feels… _better_  when he’s near him.  He figures it’s worth it to suffer being pushed aside for a night. 

The party has gotten overwhelmingly crowded over time, and now Louis is maneuvering his way through hyper bodies as they jump around to a remix of “Spooky Scary Skeletons” blaring through the speakers. 

Louis’ not even sure where Harry and his acquired group had originally been situated, because he doesn’t even know the venue all that well, but it doesn’t seem to matter when he eventually runs into him.

The boy bumps into him on his left and almost sends him falling, but Harry reaches out and grabs onto both of his arms before it can happen.

“God, I’m sorry,” Harry says, helping to bring Louis back to his two feet.  “I was looking for you.”

“Oh,” Louis replies, a corner of his lips poking upward for half a second.  “Why, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m—“ Harry starts, shaking his head as he knits his eyebrows together.  Louis gets shoved forward from behind as he continues to watch Harry.

“I just…I never really got to like…” Harry starts, running his hand over the back of his neck.  “ _Eat_ , before this, and—“

“Oh my god, I hadn’t even thought about that,” Louis says, bringing his palm to his forehead.  “You’re starving aren’t you?”

Harry nods his head slightly as he brings his eyes back to Louis’.

“Yeah, I was just gonna go, and—do  _that_  for a bit, and then come back,” Harry says.  “Is that alright?”

Louis nods his head quickly.  “Yeah, totally.”

“You’ll be fine?” Harry asks, running his thumb over the bone on Louis’ left forearm.

Louis nods once again, offering Harry a grin in order to let him know it’s completely fine.

“Okay, I’ll be back,” Harry says, and he seems a bit taken aback when Louis moves forward and gives him an innocent hug, but he embraces him back nonetheless.  “Hang in there, okay?” he says as he pats Louis’ lower back twice.

“Promise,” Louis says as he pulls back, and with that, Harry’s lost in the current of wild costumes at the party and Louis is left to his own company.

Louis initially tries to look for Zayn, but it eventually proves itself to be useless, so he decides to spend his time mingling with some guys from the film club at school who actually appreciate him and what he has to offer as a person.

At one point he excuses himself after declaring that he’s going to go stuff his face with more candy from the grand arrangement, and just as he takes two steps away from the group, the electricity in the party cuts off.

Every last light, sound system, air conditioner—everything shuts  _down_.

Louis pauses his movements, as does everyone else as they begin to become distressed at the fact that their partying has come to an abrupt stop.

Then, everything begins shaking.

The floor trembles under Louis’ feet, and lamps, speakers, and tables that were once standing begin to become unstable as they fall over. 

This is when people start to react urgently, and as the shaking grows more relentless and intense, the venue is filled with the sounds of screams, as well as fast feet as people attempt to either flee or take cover.

“ _Earthquake!”_  some girl shouts, loud amongst the other screams flying about.

Louis’ smart enough by now to know that he shouldn’t just stand in place, so he does what everyone else is doing, and moves with quick feet in order to find some sort of area of safety.

His breath is shaky and his hands are jittery when he finds a doorknob to an empty closet and quickly lets himself inside.  It’s small, and it’s dark, and it’s just what Louis needs right now in order to calm himself.

A large part of him wants this to be nothing more than an earthquake.  He literally sits with his knees close to his chest as the floor continues to shake and he crosses his fingers that it  _is_  just an earthquake.

Louis’ just about ready to say a prayer when suddenly, the shaking stops.  He can hear the sound of something big hitting the ground from outside of the closet, but that seems to be the last of it as people finally begin to calm down.

Louis brings his crossed fingers down as he opens his eyes that he hadn’t even realized he’d squeezed  shut.

And then—

“ _Boo_.”

Louis jumps away at the sound of the boy’s voice right against his ear and hauntingly quiet.

He doesn’t waste any time before springing up and viciously pulling at the doorknob, and surprisingly, it opens.  There’s still many perturbed people within the venue that Louis has to shove through, and the fact that everything’s pitch black makes it all the more difficult for Louis to even know where exactly he’s supposed to be escaping to, but he just  _goes_.

Louis’ traveling with quick feet down a hallway that he’s certain is supposed to lead him closer to the exit, but he doesn’t get to the end of it before a table—a whole entire  _table_ —seems to be thrown towards the end of it, shoved upright in such a way that Louis couldn’t exit the hallway even if he tried.

People are screaming again now, shrieks of horror and hurried feet sounding throughout the air as Louis turns around, intent to find some other way out, but he doesn’t get far before he bumps right into Liam.

“There’s no use now,” he says, spreading his arms wide so that the tips of his fingers touch either side of the hallway wall.  “It’s just me and you, kid.”

Louis backs away from him, eyes still having barely adjusted to the darkness as he registers the fact that Liam’s  _here_.

And even worse, Harry  _isn’t_.

“Listen, Liam, is-is there no other way I can make it up to you?” Louis asks, attempting to make negotiations at the last minute.  “Anything you want, I’ll give you, I  _swear_ —well, except my life, but—“

Liam’s hands are flat against the opposite ends of the wall now, and that’s when Louis realizes that the hallway is getting…narrower. 

The walls are  _closing in._

Louis turns around with alarmed eyes to find the table that’d been wedged into the hallway, slowly becoming smushed as the walls continue to gradually crush it, wooden splinters from the legs beginning to pop out and threatening to stick an eye.   His heart begins beating louder than ever.

Liam brings one hand up to his face in order to look at his wrist as though there’s a watch on it, and Louis begins to become extremely anxious due to his tiny amount of claustrophobia.

But then he remembers.

When Louis had bombarded Harry about Liam attacking him at school, the boy had said that he’d known.  He’d  _known_  when Liam was attacking him at school, so he probably knows what’s going on right now.

Louis still makes an attempt to push at the walls with his elbows, his breaths becoming heavy and panicked as a sense of impending doom becomes prevalent.  He just has to hope that Harry senses it.

It’s becoming less likely as the walls come in closer and Louis’ efforts to push at them become fruitless, but he just has to keep the faith.

“ _No sense in fighting it_ ,” Liam sings as Louis closes his eyes tightly, beginning to feel the walls pushing towards both of his shoulders.

His mind is loud as he continues to repeat pleading words in his head.   _Please let Harry sense this, please oh god—_

The movement of the walls comes to a shaky pause, and Louis waits for a moment before opening his eyes.

Harry’s there, and he’s right in front of him.

“For fuck’s  _sake_ , Harry,” Liam says, rolling his eyes as Harry uses the palms of both of his hands to press against the close walls, sufficiently relieving Louis of the stress that’d initially been put on his shoulders.  “You’ll never let this priss fight his own battles, will you?”

Harry seems to ignore him as he turns around to face Louis and continues to keep the walls apart with his upmost strength.  It appears to be a difficult task, because it’s clear that Liam is still fighting to bring them in, which is making things hard for Harry.

“This won’t make you any better of a person, you murderer,” Liam snarls from behind.  “It won’t make you human again.”

Harry gently closes his eyes as he bites down on his bottom lip and knits his eyebrows together, his hands steady.

The struggle continues, but it seems like Harry can only go on for so much longer—Louis can see the pure concentration in his features and the slight shakiness of his firm hands.  At some point it seems like maybe he’s going to give it up—

And then the fight ends, and the walls slowly spread back to their normal distance.

And of  _course_ , Liam disappears.  He’s not defeated, he still somehow  _exists_  and is going to pop up in order to attempt to murder Louis at  _some_ point in the near future, and he’s fucking  _gone_  again.

 _Everything_  comes back on.  The lights, the sound systems, the air conditioners—everything.

Harry opens his eyes to meet Louis’ as the party becomes loud again, the amount of people that are still in the party (which is an  _alarmingly_ large number) getting right back into the mood as they clap and continue their festivities.

Harry lets his hands down and grabs a hold of Louis’ wrist before stalking down the hallway, joining the masses of the party where people are right back to dancing and shouting and downing shots as though nothing had ever happened.

“Wow, I almost died,” Louis says, and he intends for it to sound lighthearted and humorous, but it’s a bit of a shock when he finds himself sounding genuinely scared, causing Harry to fix his eyes on him as he gets shoved by one of the party goers.

There’s still some servers that are passing out those slimy green beverages in shot glasses, and it genuinely catches Louis off guard when Harry stops one of them and takes two glasses without hesitation.

He places one in Louis’ hand, the boy taking a while to actually hold it as he stares at Harry bewilderedly.

“Let’s celebrate the fact that you didn’t,” Harry says, quirking one eyebrow up and grinning lopsidedly as Louis’ mouth remains half open.

This time it seems like… _Harry_ …is actually attempting to brighten the mood.

The pure pleasant surprise of this gesture causes Louis to ignore the fact that he in fact,  _did_  almost die just minutes before, the fact that Harry’s about to  _consume_ something that isn’t blood just for the fun of it, and the fact that they still haven’t gotten rid of Liam.

Instead, he just hooks his arm around Harry’s and downs the surprisingly pleasant drink, eager to celebrate with him.

It seems the party  _actually_  starts from then on, because there are still people flooding in, probably after having heard about the crazy things that had gone on and wanting to experience it themselves.  It’s alarming that people are even still in this venue after what happened, but Louis doesn’t think about it as he gets tipsy with Harry and wraps a black feather boa around the boy’s neck that he doesn’t even remember how he’d found.

Louis has never seen Harry let loose so much before—the boy is laughing brightly, draping himself over Louis, and proudly singing along to the few songs he actually  _knows_ , like “Thriller” and a few scraps of “This is Halloween”.

They end up having a fucking  _blast_ , with people even inviting them to hop around to the bass heavy music, the both of them laughing about any and everything, and Louis pulling him in by the boa around his neck in order to offer him his pleased smiles and giggle drunkenly into his cheek.

Louis’ not even sure what time it is when they finally decide to leave and begin walking towards Louis’ house (they don’t even think about seeking Niall or Zayn and catching a ride with them).  They’re sufficiently tipsy, shoving each other every now and then one of them says something stupid, and Harry is enjoying one of the cherry lollipops from the edible arrangement that Louis had urged him to try.  He still has the feather boa hanging from his neck and it’s beginning to shed as he takes leisure steps down the dark sidewalk.  His hair is also not much of a quiff anymore, and it’s mostly messy and untamed, but somehow, Louis feels like he likes it better this way.

“Who was that one girl even dressed up as?” Harry asks at some point, the lollipop hanging out of the side of his mouth.

“The girl with the mask on and the leather skirt?” Louis asks, chuckling a bit too hard for his own good.  “I was wondering that  _too_.”

“Guess some people just aren’t as gifted with costumes as me,” Harry says.

Louis shoves him, causing the boy to giggle as he brings his sucker away from his lips.  “Your costume is one hundred percent credited to  _me_ , okay?  Don’t get cocky, mister.”

“I’m the one wearing it though,” Harry replies.

Louis bites back a grin as he shakes his head at Harry.  “I guess it does make sense.  No one cares about the behind-the-scenes stuff as much as the actual product.”

“Yeah, no one asked me about that,” Harry says, and Louis gets discouraged for a moment as they continue walking, even though he knows he shouldn’t be surprised.

“But I told them anyway,” Harry continues, grinning at Louis out of the corner of his eye.

Louis goes soft on the inside once again, not even taking a  _second_  to envision Harry taking time out of their lengthy group conversation at the party in order to talk about how Louis put so much work into making sure he looked just right.  They probably didn’t care, but Harry still told them, and…Louis’ going to try not to look too much into it.

“So, um…” Louis starts, tapping his fingers together as they continue to walk down the particularly lonely sidewalk, only lit by a single streetlight in the distance.  “We really have to get rid of Liam.”

Harry holds his lollipop in his mouth for a few seconds before removing it.  “I know,” he replies.

“I just, I can’t have this hanging over my head forever,” Louis says, rubbing at both of his eyes as frustration begins to take over him.  “My anxiety can’t take it.”

“The only way we can really know is by trial and error,” Harry replies, their steps slowing as they near Louis’ house.  “But that doesn’t seem like a good idea.

Louis nods as they approach his front steps.  “Actually, it kinda does.  I’m gonna have to do loads of research, and then we’ll just test them all out.”

“Yeah, but you don’t know how many more ‘tries’ you’ll get before Liam actually…you know…” Harry says, coming to a stop to face Louis as they stand in front of his front door.  “…wins.”

Louis goes quiet in response to that, realizing that he has an extremely good point.  He gently presses his back against the door as he joins his fingers together.

“I just want him gone,” Louis says.  “I’m trying to have fun with you and he’s completely killing my vibe.”

Harry grins as he twists the stick of the lollipop between both of his hands, his lips now red-stained and shiny.  “You  _do_  know the only reason we’re hanging out is because of Liam, right?”

Louis brings both of his hands out to caress Harry’s wrists as he grins up at the boy.  “I know that’s what it started off as, but that’s not what it is now,” he practically sings, bringing Harry’s arms down in front of him as he sways them.

Harry sighs in a way that’s probably supposed to be offensive, but Louis finds it endearing.

“Keep telling yourself that if it makes you happy,” Harry says.

“Gladly,” Louis replies, before adding as an afterthought, “How would you feel if I kissed you right now?”

Harry seems taken aback as his lips part, his eyes blinking and lost in the darkness of the night as he stares at Louis, the boy continuing to caress his wrists.  “I…I don’t know how I’d feel…”

“Good enough for me,” Louis whispers, before sliding his hands up to Harry’s forearms, gripping the material of his jacket as he leans into him.

The slight coldness of the air completely vanishes when their lips touch, the warmth of their mouths pressing gently against each other soothing the both of them.  The kiss is light and sweet, Harry cupping one hesitant and gentle hand against the back of Louis’ neck as Louis slides his hands from Harry’s arms to his waist in order to pull him in just a little.  It isn’t a surprise that the boy tastes of cherry sweetness.

It lasts no longer than five seconds, yet the gentle tug of their lips over one another seems as though it goes on for an eternity.  Harry’s breaths are shaky when they finally pull their lips away from each other, and Louis rests his head against Harry’s as he brings his arms up to settle on both of his shoulders.

Louis grins as he keeps his eyes closed, swooning in the feeling of Harry’s gentle breaths so close against his face.

“Thanks for being my knight in shining armor,” Louis says, not even realizing how Harry’s hands have moved to lightly caress waist until now.

“Anytime,” Harry replies quietly, and his voice still manages to crack a bit, which is hilariously adorable to Louis.  Louis opens his eyes and finds Harry even more red-cheeked than the blush had initially made him look, and he thinks for a second about going in for another kiss, but pauses when an abrupt movement from Harry deters him.

Louis pulls back a little as Harry’s eyes become a bit wider, an almost manic look behind them as he stares back at Louis, and then—there’s that  _movement_  again.  It’s sort of like a sharp twitch of his head, the boy’s head tilting for a millisecond before going back to normal as his eyes continue to dilate.

“You okay?” Louis asks, pulling back a bit more as concern sprinkles his features.

“Yeah—I just,” the boy replies, stepping back from Louis so that the physical contact is broken between them.  That  _twitch_  comes about again, and it looks more like an uncontrollable tic, as though there’s some kind of malfunction going on within his body.  “I just…I never really got to—uh…finish.”

Louis nods slowly as he opens his mouth, now beginning to realize what this is.  “Oh—you— _oh_ ,” he says, not quite knowing what to do.

Liam crashing the party had obviously cut Harry’s plans to quench his thirst short, so the boy’s probably  _dying_  of hunger by now. 

“I have to go,” Harry says, his eyes unfocused as he points over his shoulder and continues to uncontrollably twitch.

Louis just proceeds to nod wordlessly as he watches him retreat.

“Don’t forget to, uh,” Harry scratches at his neck harshly.  “Do that…stuff to your room.”

“…okay,” Louis finally replies, but by the time he’s said it, Harry has already turned around and disappeared into the darkness of the streets.

Louis knows with no doubt in his mind that that was exactly what Harry’d been referring to when talking about how he sometimes “lost control”.

And he also knows with no doubt in his mind that the boy is about to go tie himself up, and he knows he shouldn’t worry about it, but it doesn’t sit well with him.

 

~*~

 

Louis attempts to organize the different documents he’d printed out in order of credibility as he lays on his stomach upon the leaves and twigs that make up the bed of the woods.

It’s sometime in the late afternoon, the birds are chirping and giving the whole area less of a disturbing aura, and Harry is laid on his back next to him as they remain by his tree.  Harry’s eyes are gently closed as his hoodie remains over his head, some of his curls peaking out as he rests against the leaves without a concern as to whether or not ants crawl into his ear.

Louis stacks the papers up in order to get them lined up again before setting them on the ground, his eyes studying the words with concentration as he speaks.

“So  _this_  one describes how burning incense can sometimes help—“

“Myth,” Harry replies, letting out an easy breath as he continues to keep his eyes closed.

Louis presses his lips together and ignores the frustration creeping in on him as he flips to the next page of information he’d printed out after hours of research on his laptop.

“ _Okay_  then,” Louis says.  “In this article it says that sometimes it’s best to just communicate with them directly and tell them to leave you alone.”

“You really think that'll work with Liam?” Harry asks, one eyebrow raised.

Louis sucks his teeth, because of  _course_  it won’t. 

He turns his eyes toward the lake that Harry’d been going on about the first time he’d ever shown Louis this place.  The boy was right—the sun is causing various colors to be reflected across it’s surface; green, red, and orange-ish hues grace it, and it’s absolutely mesmerizing to admire.

Louis can’t help but be overwhelmingly softened by the fact that this is all Harry needs in order to satisfy himself.  It’s how he’d gotten along way before Louis had entered the equation and turned everything chaotic.  Just the quietness of nature and the beautiful lake before him, yet Louis couldn’t even attempt to be satisfied with the things around him and had to go bothering the dead.

Louis turns back to Harry, watching as the boy’s eyes remain closed and he takes tranquil breaths in and out, as though he’s at complete ease.

“You’re not helping,” Louis says matter-of-factly.

“I’ve kept Liam from killing you twice,” Harry replies, opening one of his eyes.  “I think I am helping.”

“Hey, no need to brag,” Louis replies, a grin poking at his lips.  “I’m pretty sure if you weren’t around I’d find  _some_  way to save myself.”

Harry scoffs, both of his eyes now open as he grins.  “Sure.  As if your mind doesn’t completely shut down when you’re faced with fear.”

Louis opens his mouth in offense as Harry giggles.

“I’ve seen it,” Harry adds, raising a lazy hand in the air to pat at Louis’ cheek.

Louis grips his hand and shoves it away as he leans over the boy, muttering into his cheek as Harry continues to laugh lightly.  “I liked it better when you didn’t talk.”

“Too late now,” Harry replies as their joined hands continue to wrestle each other and Louis snuggles his face into the boy’s jaw.

Louis can hear Harry’s breath stilling, and he doesn’t know why, but he loves the fact that Harry gets so nervous, and he finds it immensely adorable.

Louis inches his face a few centimeters over so he can meet Harry’s lips, and the boy quickly complies as their lips fold over one another.  Louis slowly intertwines their fingers, his other hand running through the boy’s hair underneath his hoodie. 

He can tell that Harry’s trying to keep the kiss as soft as possible, because as their tongues graze over one another and Louis attempts to take the kiss to a slightly deeper level, Harry holds back a bit, taking them right back to gentle, slow pecks. 

Louis gives the boy’s lips a final peck before he leans back, still half-resting over Harry as he smiles down at him.

“At least I got you to be quiet for a second there,” Louis teases quietly.

A leaf rested by Harry’s ear comes up off of the ground, and Louis stares at it confoundedly as it now twirls in the air, clearly due to some unearthly force that has disregarded gravity.  Louis watches the red thing as it swirls around for a few seconds, and then it hits him right in the face before gracefully falling to the ground again.

“ _Wow_ ,” Louis says as he clutches his own cheek, Harry laughing delightedly underneath him and shaking the both of them.  “ _It requires too much power_ my ass.”

“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” Harry replies as his eyes continue to glint up at Louis.

Louis buries his head in Harry’s chest as he fights not to giggle, which proves itself to be a fruitless task as Harry continues to chuckle underneath him.

Louis sighs as he turns his face to rest the side of his head on Harry’s chest, both of their breaths beginning to calm as they continue to lie relaxed on top of each other.

Louis’ eyes are set on the tree they’re situated near, and his sights fall upon the usual rope that’s set around the base of the trunk, just where Harry had shown him.

He picks up his head a bit as he keeps his arms braced on top of Harry.  The boy pulls his hoodie further down his face so it can cover his eyes as he continues to rest them.

“You know,” Louis begins, propping himself up a bit.  “The idea of you tying yourself up kinda bothers me.”

“I literally have to.”

Louis turns back to face Harry, the boy’s eyes still covered by the fabric of his hoodie.  “Or what?”

There’s silence for a moment, Harry breathing through his nose as Louis’ eyes study his mouth.

“You don’t wanna know,” Harry finally says.

Louis sits up a little as he drums his fingers against Harry’s chest.  “Harry, you’re not some kind of caged animal.  You can’t just do this to yourself and act like it’s okay—“

“You think I care about what’s okay?” Harry asks, laughing dryly as he finally releases his hoodie and reveals his eyes to Louis, each pupil now bearing more distress than before.  “I literally ambush terrified people in the middle of the night in order to  _survive_ , so I’m pretty sure at this point, nothing I ever do will be  _okay_.”

Louis reaches out and delicately brushes his knuckles against the boy’s cheek as Harry closes his eyes again, seemingly in attempt to calm himself down.  He rests the side of his head back down against Harry’s chest, not knowing what else to say that will make things better.

“Just…” Harry starts, Louis rising and falling with the boy’s breathing.  “Don’t make this a thing.  This is not some humanitarian, ‘help the needy’ thing that you can just fix.”

Louis doesn’t say anything in response to that, instead choosing to just close his eyes as well and attempt to forget about it altogether.

 

~*~

 

“Okay, but listen,” Niall starts, picking at the sandwich on his tray as he sits across from Zayn and Louis on the floor of the hallway, just outside of the band room.  “I think I’ve figured Harry out.”

Louis tries his best to ignore him as he keeps his notebooks spread out in front of him and continues to study (well, if analyzing and jotting down different ways to get rid of Liam is “studying”), but Zayn scoffs with his mouth half full as he nudges Louis with his ankle.

“Brace yourself for another one of his theories,” Zayn laughs.

“I always knew he was strange, but that Halloween party made things perfectly clear,” Niall continues, Louis keeping his eyes glued to his notebook and half-listening to him.

“He seemed to just like… _appear_  out of nowhere just as October came around, which is sketchy,” Niall explains, his eyes spacey as he goes into deep thought and stretches his legs out across the hard floor in front of him.  “ _You’re_  obsessed with him, and we all know how much you’re obsessed with freaky shit.  And he did his costume  _way_  too much justice.”

Louis’ eyes shift up towards him when he’s in the middle of jotting something down, and he suddenly becomes curious as to where he’s going with this.

“I’m just gonna go ahead and say it, and I don’t care if you guys think I’m crazy,” Niall says, before setting his fist down hard on his thigh.  “Harry is a vampire.  He  _has_  to be.”

“No he isn’t,” Louis replies way too quickly, causing both Zayn and Niall’s eyes to dart in his direction.

Louis’ pretty sure Zayn is on the same page as him right now, but he’s only staring at him confusedly along with Niall because of how fast he’d responded to Niall’s assumption.

“I mean…I know everything there is to know about vampires,” Louis says, forcing out an easy laugh as he looks at the both of them and scratches at his collar bone.  “Harry doesn’t fit any of the characteristics.  Not a single one of them.”

Niall clasps his hands together as he shakes his head.  “I’m still sticking to what I feel.  We’ll have to test out how he reacts around garlic.”

Zayn now directs his eyes back forth to Niall, setting a gentle hand on the boy's knee as he tilts his head forward at him.  “You…you  _do_  know that vampires aren’t real, right?”

“Sure, patronize the guy who actually tries to think  _creatively_ for once,” Niall replies as he slumps back onto the palms of his hands.

Louis bites down on his bottom lip to contain any other words he has to say on the subject, before directing his attention back down to what he’d been writing.

“But I can admit, he  _does_  kind of look like one,” Zayn adds.  “I keep hearing people talk about how authentic he looked at the party and how they’d never seen him before.”

This captures Louis’ attention again as he glances at Zayn, his eyes sharp with seriousness.

“What were they like…saying about him?”

“I overheard some girls talking about how hot his costume was and complaining about how they never got his name,” Zayn replies, before taking a huge bite out of his sandwich and causing Louis to suffer through the long seconds it took for him to continue.  “Me, being the nice guy I am, I told them who he was.”

Louis’ free hand curls up just a bit before he relaxes it, pursing his lips together as he looks back down at his notes.

“I  _refuse_  to let that guy ruin my game around here,” Niall says.  “We have to get rid of him.”

“You don’t have any game,” Zayn laughs, completely comfortable and oblivious to Louis slowly crumbling on the inside right next to him.  “Girl after girl rejected you at that party.”

“That was just a minor bump, okay?” Niall replies, Louis’ mind continuing to grow louder with panic and paranoia.  “And for your information, some chick dressed as Catwoman held onto me when the electricity went out.”

“Yeah right,” Zayn scoffs.  “That was sick, by the way.  I’d never seen a Halloween party with such cool effects.”

Louis presses his lips together even tighter, because staying silent through this exchange is just about killing him.

“ _Right_ , I was actually scared for a minute,” Niall replies.  “Heard they spent a fortune to make everything seem so realistic.”

Louis is going to explode.

 

~*~

 

It’s another day in the life where Louis tries to get through his daily activities with this constant sense of impending dread hanging over him like a cloud.  It’s been about a week since that party and Liam hasn’t appeared since, and even though that should relieve Louis a bit, it only makes him more anxious with every day he waits.  He knows it will happen, and he just wants it to  _happen_  already.

There’s finally a bit of an upside to everything, however, because Louis had found some new, intriguing theories as to how to get rid of the boy that he felt could potentially work.  He’d read upon something about how the only way to fully do away with a stubborn, obdurate spirit (such as Liam) for good was to “rip them apart”, and obviously, Louis can’t do that himself, which is why he needs to talk to Harry.

At the end of another school day, Louis approaches his locker, not surprised to find the return of the word “GAY” written across it in that same black marker.  He wipes it off without a care and gets what he now calls his Liam Notebook out of his locker before slamming it shut—

The sight of someone next to him once he closes his locker causes his heart to almost burst out of his chest.

And then he realizes it’s Harry.

The boy is grinning amusedly as Louis sighs with a hand against his chest.

“God, you can’t  _do_  things like that,” Louis says with a push to the boy’s shoulder, before turning around and starting toward the front of the school building.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize how sensitive you were,” Harry replies as he places his hands in his pockets.  “Have you gotten anywhere with your research?”

They’re crossing the threshold where the tiled floor of the school building turns into the concrete ground of the front of the school, and eventually they start down the steps.

“Actually, I did, but…” Louis starts, taking his notebook from where it’s tucked under his arm and beginning to flip through it.  “I’m not sure if you’ll like it—“

They’ve just reached the bottom of the steps when Louis gets abruptly pushed from behind, followed by a voice muttering the word “poof” at him, accompanied by a group of guys that Louis doesn’t even turn around to look at, beginning to quietly snicker. 

Louis looks down at where his notebook has fallen to the ground, due to him dropping it after being viciously shoved from behind, and he looks up at Harry and forces out the most painful of grins before bending down in order to pick it up.

Louis raises his eyebrows momentarily before opening back up his notebook and flipping through the pages.  “ _Anyway_ …” he starts as he begins to walk again, eager to stay focused. 

His steps eventually come to a stop upon realizing Harry isn’t following him.

Louis turns around to blink at him, and the boy is staring at the ground, his brows drawn together in such a way that Louis is seriously beginning to worry about what’s on his mind.

And then, the boy turns around and slowly walks over to what Louis guesses is the group of guys The Pusher had belonged to.  They’re clad in the signature colored school jackets for  _whatever_ sports team they're obviously apart of, and it takes them a while to notice Harry in the midst of their amused laughter.  They quiet down as he approaches, lost eyes staring at him curiously, and Harry comes to a stop as he stands in front of them.

In one instant, he pulls his arm back and punches one of the guys in the jaw with every ounce of strength in his fist.

The guy is knocked out cold, and one of his friends has to catch him as the rest of them begin to look at Harry with wide eyes, the expressions on their faces making it clear that fear has been struck within them.

Harry then turns around and casually makes his way back over to Louis, joining his hands together as he stops in front of the boy and rocks on his heels.

“So, to your house?”

Louis’ jaw is still rested on the floor from having watched the whole thing go down from a few feet away, and even over Harry’s shoulder, the guys are trying to get their friend to regain consciousness.

“Uh…yeah…” Louis says eventually, nodding his head as he starts backwards in the direction he’d left his bicycle.  “Yeah.”

And Louis doesn’t know what else to say other than that.

He just…he knows how he feels.  And this is what he’s pretty sure being in love feels like.  He’s definitely in love and his heart doesn’t let him forget it on the entire ride back to his house as the boy grips onto his waist.  His heart is positively  _swelling_.

At some point Harry pauses the ride to slide his hoodie off and over his head because he’s “burning up”, and he ties it around his waist, now only wearing the loose, thin white t-shirt he apparently always has on under it, and Louis doesn’t know why this makes his heart flutter even more.

When they finally reach Louis’ house, Louis rests his bike against the mailbox as he always does, and then he turns to Harry.

“So, what…” Harry starts, his sentence coming to a slow end as Louis sets a gentle hand against his chest and walks the boy backward until his back rests against the tree in Louis’ front yard, tender eyes locked with his for the entirety of the slow journey.

He presses himself into Harry when he kisses him, his right hand immediately coming up to caress the back of Harry’s head full of curls, and each of Harry’s arms sliding behind his neck and across his back.

Louis runs one of his hands down the soft, warm skin of Harry’s arm, desperate to feel the boy everywhere, obsessed with how soft he is, how he’s still strong and rough at the same time.

Their lips entangle with one another as the kiss deepens, their tongues beginning to brush with purpose.  Louis tries and actually succeeds in intensifying the kiss and picking up pace, and he finds the tips of his fingers gripping the waist of Harry’s jeans and tugging him forward.

Harry breathes in harshly through his nose when he separates their lips, but Louis’ lips clearly aren’t ready to stop anytime soon as he moves his mouth to the boy’s jaw.  Harry rests his head back against the tree as he strokes the strands at the nape of Louis’ neck, and Louis uses the slowest, most tender pecks of his lips in order to send chills down the boy’s spine as he works the side of his neck.

“Slow,” Harry whispers, bringing his head back down in order to press his forehead against Louis’.

Louis’ eager fingers grip the bottom hem of Harry’s t-shirt as he nods in understanding.  His fingers slide under Harry’s shirt and brush against the boy’s warm waist, and he leans forward blindly, catching the corner of Harry’s lips in a kiss.

“Want you,” Louis breathes, his teeth grazing the boy’s jaw as his fingers tug upward at the boy’s shirt.

“Okay,” Harry breathes, bringing his hand down to cover Louis’ that’s gripping at his shirt.  He laces their fingers as he joins lips with Louis again, before proceeding to whisper “Just…slow, alright?”

 

~*~

 

When Louis blinks his eyes open, his room is dark for the most part, but he doesn’t immediately feel a hint of fear in response to it. He actually feels completely at ease— _blissful_ , even, as he rubs at his eyes before blinking them open.

He has on Harry’s dark hoodie, and it’s large enough on him for Louis to feel thoroughly warm and drowned in comfort.

What he sees once he’s fully awake is Harry sat up against his bed frame, Olive in his lap as he calmly runs his fingers through her fur, and a pleased look beginning to form on his face as he watches Louis wake up.

“Hey there,” Harry says, before shifting his eyes back down to Olive as she purrs in his arms.

“How long’ve you been watching me nap?” Louis mumbles into his pillow as he scratches at his briefs.

“You act like there’s anything else for me to do,” Harry replies with a laugh.  “You don’t even have a television in your room.”

Louis’ quite pleased with the view of Harry’s collarbones peeking out from his t-shirt, and for a moment he thinks about campaigning to the boy about  _never_  wearing this god forsaken hoodie again (surprisingly it doesn’t  _smell_  like he’s worn it every day that Louis’ known him), but there are more pressing matters at hand.

“So…” Louis starts, Harry quirking an eyebrow up at him and waiting for what he has to say.  “I think I know how to get rid of Liam.  It has to do with you.”

Harry slips his eyes shut as he continues to stroke Olive’s fur, letting out a gentle sigh.  “Do we  _have_ to ruin what has been a great day by bringing him up again?”

Louis sits up a bit as he fixes serious eyes on the boy.  “Harry, we don’t have time to  _waste—“_

“Really?  Because you had no problem wasting  _all_  that time just a few hours ago,” Harry replies teasingly, blinking at Louis suggestively as Louis narrows his eyes at him.

Louis gets on his knees in order to shuffle up to him, Harry biting down on the corner of his lip and tilting his head at the boy.

“You’re being cheeky right now and it’s kind of cute but I’m being serious,” Louis says, reaching out and gripping the boy’s arm.  “I feel like I’ve  _figured this out_.”

“I feel like I’ve figured  _you_  out,” Harry replies, biting back a laugh as Louis frowns at him. 

He knows the boy is trying to change the subject, probably because  _now_  he knows that it concerns him and he doesn’t want to deal with what Louis has to say.

“Are you gonna be serious?” Louis asks.

Harry blinks tiredly at Louis for a moment, his fingers stilling in Olive’s fur as they hold each other’s gazes.

“I just don’t want you to think about  _him_  right after we’ve done… _that_ ,” Harry replies, his eyes wandering down and falling upon Louis’ lips as he inches his face just a bit closer.  “So can we not?  Please?” he asks in the quietest, most  _sweetest_  voice Louis has ever heard from him, which immediately causes Louis to comply, giving in and closing the space between them with a peck to the boy’s lips.  Of course, it doesn’t  _end up_  as just a peck, and this time it’s  _Harry_  that immerses himself a bit more in it as grips the bottom of Louis’ chin—

And then Louis sharply pulls back when a harsh stinging sensation graces the corner of his bottom lip.

He sits back on his heels as he brings his fingers up to his lip, feeling for what he’s sure is blood.  “Ow,” is the first thing that comes to mind for him to say.  He pulls his two fingers away from his mouth, and sure enough, they’re stained with blood as Louis’ lip continues to sting with pain.

“You  _bit_  me,” Louis says, almost as though he’s taken offense.

Harry purses his lips together as he fights back a laugh, his shoulders beginning to shake.  “My bad.”

Louis genuinely starts to become worried as he pats at the blood on his lip.  “Oh god, I’m not going to become a  _vampire_  now, am I?”

Harry seems to completely deflate as he stops laughing, fixing tired eyes on Louis.  “No.  That only happens if I release my venom.”

Louis breathes out a deep sigh of relief. 

“But thanks for making it seem so bad,” Harry adds matter-of-factly.

Louis looks back up at Harry upon realizing how extremely rude he’d just come off as, and he immediately shakes his head as Harry’s eyes begin to grow unfocused.

“I’m sorry—I didn’t mean…” Louis begins, but he gets sidetracked by Harry, because…the boy is doing that  _tic_  again, his breaths becoming sharper and harsher as he inhales and exhales through his nose.

That’s when Louis is reminded that he’s literally  _bleeding_  in front of Harry.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” Louis breathes, before quickly getting up from his bed and making his way to the bathroom in order to rinse out his mouth and pat away the blood with tissue.  He turns to look at Harry from his bathroom as he keeps a folded up napkin near his mouth, and Olive seems to have crawled out of his lap as Harry now sits there, blinking rapidly and staring straight ahead as his twitching seems to have gone bad.  His fists are a pale white as they’re clenched on his lap, and even his eyes are beginning to bear an alarmingly unhinged look behind them.

“I have to go,” Harry finally says after a while, carefully sliding his legs off of the bed, his whole body beginning to tremble as he moves toward the door.

“You’re gonna go and tie yourself up like some animal at the zoo?” Louis asks, his voice desperate as he steps out of his bathroom before Harry can exit his room.  “Harry, it’s not a good idea.”

Harry doesn’t even react to his words as he pulls the door open with a little too much force and is out of his room within seconds.

Louis disposes of the napkin and rinses his mouth out again, knowing that it’s only a matter of time before Harry’s back, because…well.

Louis steps back into his room, walking over to stand in front of his drawer, and he peeks inside in order to see if what’s  _supposed_  to be in there is still in there.

As expected, it doesn’t take long for Harry to pop back into his room—what’s  _unexpected_  however, is the boy opening the door so forcefully that it slams into the wall behind it and creates a hole.

Louis’ mouth falls agape as he watches Harry—a  _different_  Harry, because this is definitely not  _his_  Harry that’s entered the room so aggressively and is now fixing a dangerous, threatening glare upon Louis.

“You  _took_ my rope,” Harry says, his voice bearing a sharp deepness to it that Louis’ never heard before.

Louis exhales shakily as his feet remain stuck in place.  “I…”

“Why would you do that?” Harry practically growls, his nostrils beginning to flare as he begins to tic out of control.

“I…I thought—“

“For  _God’s sake,_  Louis!  This isn’t something you want to  _fucking_ mess with,” Harry exclaims, leaning one of his hands against the wall, right next to the hole he’d initially made in it.  His hand is clenching even more, and Louis’ surprised that the skin at his knuckles isn’t starting to tear apart.  “I’m not a  _fucking experiment!”_  he shouts thunderously, before literally gripping at the wall and  _crumbling it_ , creating a gnarly hole right next to the first one.

And then his eyes go black.

His eyes completely  _flip_  from the usual green,  _human-_ looking ones that Louis has grown used to, into two black voids within his eyelids, with no white left anywhere.  He looks like a  _demon_.

Of all things that have happened, _this_  is what causes terror to begin to stir within Louis as he slowly starts to back away towards the opposite side of his room.

“Harry…” Louis tries, his voice weak.

Suddenly Harry’s coming forth, and every single vein in his neck, arms, wrists, and head are popping out, green and evident as Louis scrambles to back away from him.  He trips over his desk chair in the process and grasps onto it for dear life as Harry continues to completely  _lose_  it.

“Harry, it’s  _me_!” Louis exclaims, tears prickling at his eyes as he rolls his chair in front of him and continues to scoot into the furthest corner of the room he can get to. 

But Harry’s still advancing toward him, and with the wild amount of hunger in his eyes, as well as the sharpness of his fangs that are now even longer and more prominent than before, Louis’ surprised the boy isn’t foaming at the mouth.

If there was once a time where Louis didn’t know what Harry looked like when he was hungry, he  _definitely_  has an idea now.

Louis’ fingers are shaking so much he hardly has a grip where he’s holding onto the cushion of the seat for dear life, and he’s so fucking  _certain_ that this is going to be it.  Once again, his own stupid actions will contribute to his demise.

And then, Harry becomes halted by some unknown force.

It seems as though his neck is being held back, preventing him from advancing forward another step.

Then suddenly, Liam appears behind him, and it all makes sense.

Liam has one of his arms wrapped around Harry’s neck as he moves backwards in order to drag the boy out of the room, despite the boy’s numerous aggressive attempts to get back at Louis.  The boy even grasps at his wooden dresser in order to escape Liam’s clutch and advance toward Louis, which results in it getting knocked over and crashing onto the ground, everything that’d been laying on top of it scattered over his rug.

“I’m  _only_  doing this because  _I_ want to be the one to kill you,” Liam says with an evil grin as he peeks over Harry’s shoulder, and then they’re gone.

Louis’ eyes remain filled with terror and his mouth wide and unmoving as he stares at his open door for a while after they’re gone.  His room is a  _mess_  now; there are two holes in his wall, his entire dresser is smashed on the floor where Harry'd knocked it over, and he’s pretty sure he’s never been more shaken in his  _life_.

That wasn’t Harry that he’d encountered just then.  It  _couldn’t_ be.

Louis refuses to believe it.

Once Louis has come to his senses just a bit and realizes that Liam is probably going to be back at any second in order to finish the deed while Louis is literally  _alone_ and unprotected, Louis darts up from where he’s on the ground, sprints toward his door in order to close and lock it, and begins the ritual of baking soda, salt, and smoke upon his room before Liam has a chance to come back in.  He’s pretty sure he’s never done anything so fast before.

After he’s done, it takes him a while to register the freighted, innocent sounds coming from below, and he shifts his gaze to see the yellows of Olive’s eyes peeking out from underneath his bed.

Louis feels like his chest is being ripped apart, and he genuinely breaks down for a moment as he brings the back of his hand up to his mouth and tries to stifle all of the emotions.  There’s so many different  _feelings_  rushing through him right now, and  _none_  of them are pleasant.  He just feels stupid, and lonely, and fucking  _terrified_ of  _everything_.

He decides to spend the remainder of the day curled under his blankets, and doesn’t acknowledge the tears trailing down the side of his face as he continues to tremble in the darkness of his room.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

 

 

They’re not talking.

Which kind of makes sense, because Harry had tried to kill him, _after_ Louis had gone against his wishes, due to his overly sympathetic tendencies getting the best of him.

At first, Louis’ not sure if he wants to talk to him, because as much as he hates to admit it, he’s scared.  He’s afraid that if he even so much as touches the boy on the shoulder to get his attention, Harry might completely snap and revert back to…whoever that person was in Louis’ bedroom that day.

He’d gone back to carpooling with Niall, and he’d been silently suffering through the boy’s veering when Niall decided to put an end to the obvious quietness in his car.

“Dude, are you okay?” Niall had asked at some point, neither of his hands on the steering wheel.

Louis was just glad they’d been nearing the school so that he could finally free himself from this Vehicle of Death in order to find Zayn and latch onto _him_ instead.

“Yeah…’m fine,” Louis had answered absentmindedly as he stared out of the window.

Niall finally finished parking in the student lot, and after he’d turned off the car, they were left with complete silence, the boy now staring at Louis as Louis looked the other way.

“It doesn’t seem like it,” Niall said, his voice uncharacteristically serious.  He leaned forward a bit, bringing himself closer to Louis as he set an elbow on the armrest.  “There’s something you’re not telling us.  It’s been bothering you for a while now—you’re on edge most of the time, a bit jittery, looking around like someone’s gonna sneak up on you…seriously, what’s up?”

Louis had finally looked at Niall, keeping his voice calm as he replied.  “Niall.  I’m fine.”

Niall shook his head as he rested back against his seat.  “I’m gonna be honest, I noticed it when you started hanging out with that Harry guy.”

“You’re not making any sense.”

“Listen…” Niall said, bringing his voice to a softer tone.  “I…I know me and Zayn, we tease you often, but I hope you know we really _do_ care about you.  A lot.”

Louis’ eyes had gotten a bit gentler as he stared at Niall, but he still had a bit of a guard up, just because that’d become a part of his personality over the last few days.

“Like…we love you,” Niall said as he scratched at his knee.  “We love all your weird quirks, those creepy stories you tell us sometimes, we really do. We want you happy.  So don’t ever think that you can’t talk to us about anything.  If you need me to handle something, kick someone’s ass, I’m always here.”

Louis had to fight not to smile in response to that, even though Niall’s words seriously began to put him in a slightly better mood.

“Okay,” Louis practically whispered, before silently letting himself out of the car upon spotting Zayn in front of the school.

But that was _days_ ago, soon after the event had happened.  Louis could admit, he _had_ been avoiding Harry during school, and not waiting around for him afterward, and even trying not to _think_ about him.  If he’s being honest, he’s pretty sure Harry was doing the exact same.

But as the days went by, Louis got bored of it.  His feeling of missing being around the boy was beginning to outweigh his fear of the possibility that Harry would lash out at him if they ever interacted again.  Louis _has_ always been the type to take risks.

And it’s… _different_ not having Harry around.  There’s an obvious gaping hole in Louis’ life that throws everything off balance, and it only took him a few hours to grow sick of it.

Another thing that’s different is the fact that Louis’ starting to hear the boy’s name floating through the halls.  The boy is now becoming a gossip target after punching that guy (who is apparently a star member of the wrestling team) directly in the face, and Louis knows deep down that he should be worried.  People had already been whispering about him after the party, and now _this_?  All Louis can do is cross his fingers and hope that it doesn’t get any worse.  That people eventually forget about everything concerning him and move on to the next hot topic.

When Louis’ finally starting to ease out of his state of staying away from Harry, it becomes clear that Harry isn’t quite on the same page as him.  He doesn’t _ever_ spare Louis a glance when the boy attempts to catch his eye in class, and everywhere outside of class, the boy is nowhere to be seen.  He doesn’t even see the boy _walking_ anywhere—it’s almost like he’s a ghost.

Louis is _over_ it.  Like, _okay_ , it happened, Louis didn’t die, Harry didn’t hurt him, so can they move on now?  Everything is _fine_.  No need to elongate this unnecessary drama when they both know they’d rather be with each other than apart.

The only reason Louis eventually manages to catch him is because he skips his last class and literally _waits_ in front of the school for the day to end.  This way Harry can’t possibly dodge him.  He’s not sure if it’ll work however, because the boy always seems to be a step ahead of him, and he’s probably already arranged to exit out one of the back doors.

It becomes clear that this _isn’t_ the case when the school bells ring and students begin to flood out of the double doors.  It takes a while for Louis to pick him out, because he’s so used to identifying him by that notorious hoodie (which he hasn’t gotten back from Louis since that day), but eventually his eyes land upon that certain head of curly hair in the midst of the students, and he instantly knows it’s him.

Louis immediately pushes himself up from where he’s leaned against the railing of the stairs, starting quickly on his feet, and he’s already somewhat lost the boy.  He has to actually pause for a second and look around, squinted eyes surveying the area as students continue to move through him like a relentless body of water.

He spots him at the last second, just as the boy is turning a corner of the edge of the school building, most likely heading towards the back so that he can’t be seen while making his way home.

Louis continues his journey in his direction, desperate to reach the boy in order to end this before it gets dragged out for another day.  The good thing is, the boy doesn’t seem to _know_ Louis’ following him—that’s probably why Louis immediately finds him when he turns the corner of the building.

He’s in the alleyway by the school where students usually go to smoke without getting caught, and there’s even a few students there doing exactly that right about now, but Harry’s just leaned against the brick wall, his head rested back against it and his eyes squeezed shut.  He brings his arms up in order to press the backs of his hands against his forehead, and the sight of pure anguish the boy is currently displaying instantly saddens Louis. The boy looks like he’s in so much stress, as though he’s two seconds away from crying and just desperately needed a second to get away from people and sulk in his own sorrows, and Louis is partially the cause of it. 

Okay, he is _fully_ the cause of it.

Louis steps forward carefully, making sure to keep his tone tender and comforting.  “Harry…”

The instant he hears his voice, Harry turns around, burying his forehead against the brick wall and tilting his face away, just like how he’d done it the first time Louis had ambushed him.  His fingers fruitlessly grip at the wall as though he’s fuming with frustration, and he looks so helpless and small that Louis has to swallow the emotion building in his throat.

“Louis, no…” the boy pleads weakly.

“I’m sorry,” Louis says, continuing to approach him. 

Harry just shakes his head as he doesn’t dare to look at Louis, and it hurts.

Louis grips the strap of his backpack as he chews on his bottom lip for a moment, leaning his shoulder against the wall as about a foot of space remains between him and Harry.  “I shouldn’t’ve done that.  It was so stupid—and you’re right, you’re always right, I should’ve listened to you and…” Louis starts, not knowing quite how to proceed as Harry continues to just not _look_ at him.

“But Harry…I’m _okay_ ,” Louis says gently, setting the softest hand on the boy’s shoulder as Harry’s head shakes slightly.  “I’m fine.  You didn’t do anything to me.”

He continues to keep his hand rested on the boy’s shoulder, and ever so gradually, the tension within the boy’s body eases little by little as he subtly leans into it.  They both continue to remain quiet, but Louis will wait as long as it takes to hear whatever Harry has to say.

“You don’t understand,” Harry finally says, his voice low as he mumbles into the brick wall.  “How much that would destroy me inside.  Knowing I hurt you, or—or fucking _killed_ you.  That it was _me_ who did it and not Liam—“

Louis brings himself close into Harry’s side, his breaths tickling the boy’s cheek as he speaks.  “Harry, I’m fine.”  He gently runs his hand that was once upon Harry’s shoulder, down his bare arm, slow and tender until his knuckles are brushing against the boy’s wrist.  He simply touches his hand against Harry’s in order to establish that contact, hopeful that the boy will give into him.

“You just don’t understand,” Harry says, his hand that’d been gripping the brick wall curling up a bit.  “You don’t understand that things are _dangerous._ You literally _chase_ death.  Why?  Why are you like that?”

Louis swallows as a tiny sad grin begins to form on his lips, and he brings his face even closer into Harry’s vicinity, his forehead now ghosting the boy’s cheek.

“I don’t _try_ to,” Louis says quietly.  “I just try to chase things that will make me feel better…and I try to look out for people I love.  Sometimes, I guess I need to leave things alone.”

Harry chuckles for half a second in response.  “You think?”

There’s silence in their little bubble for a moment as Louis’ gaze remains upon the boy’s profile, his head now not as tilted away from Louis as it once was.  There’s the sound of two girls chatting a few feet away, as well as some guy smoking further down the wall as he slumps against it, and Louis continues to feel the back of Harry’s soft hand pressing against his palm.

And then the boy slowly moves his hand, sliding his fingers in between Louis’ with the gentle ease of a blooming flower, and Louis instantly feels warmer.

Louis rests his forehead upon Harry’s shoulder as he stifles his smile.

There’s another long pause as Louis spends his time watching Harry’s facial features, the way they change with every thought that flies through the boy’s lovely head, and he gets that _look_.  It’s the one where he’s thinking hard about doing something—or _saying_ something important that he knows Louis will react to.  Louis doesn’t pressure him to spit it out, and instead waits as he continues to caress the boy’s hand.

“I…” Harry starts, taking a moment to lick his lips as he exhales through his nose.  “I found out something.”

Louis blinks as he patiently waits, giving the boy all the time he needs.

“I snapped on Liam,” Harry says, his eyes finally blinking open.  “Most of it was a blur, but I remember I turned the aggression I’d initially had towards you…towards _him_ and it got really bad.”

Louis grips onto his hand a bit tighter, sensing how hard it is for Harry to even say what he’s saying right now.

“I…I could _feel_ him deteriorating.  I could sense his presence beginning to leave,” Harry says.  “ _You_ can’t try to fight him, because he’d just disappear on you…but I can.”

He then turns his face slightly and finally meets eyes with Louis, Louis ignoring the way his breath stills for a little over half a second.

“I know this is what you were trying to tell me,” Harry continues.  “ _I’m_ the solution to getting rid of him.”

Louis holds eye contact with him, and doesn’t bother saying that that was indeed, _exactly_ what he’d been trying to tell the boy. 

“That’s part of the reason you took my rope, isn’t it?”

Louis purses his lips for a moment, blinking and seriously wondering if the boy can read minds. 

Of course, Louis’ _primary_ reason for taking it was because of the fact that he hated the idea of Harry tying himself up. After doing research on getting rid of Liam and observing Harry for a few days, Louis _was_ just a bit curious to see exactly how wild the boy got when he didn’t have restraints.  If his strength would be unmatchable.

“It was probably…ten percent of the reason, if I’m being honest,” Louis admits.  “And I was wrong for that.  You _aren’t_ an experiment, and I promise I’ll never treat you like one again.”  He leans forward in order to nuzzle his nose against the boy’s cheek, and Harry goes compliant, nudging into the boy’s touch and quietly letting him know they’re right back on the same page.

 

~*~

 

It’s the day that Louis looks forward to every year.

It’s _Halloween_ , and of all things Louis had imagined himself doing on this lovely night, like visiting that abandoned house down the street from his home, scaring little kids by hopping out of bushes, and teepee-ing innocent people’s houses with Zayn and Niall, he instead finds himself curled up with Harry against his tree, the sweet smacking sounds of their kisses echoing softly throughout the woods as they touch each other’s necks and jaws with gentle hands.

The very faint sounds of kids trick-or-treating can be heard in the distance if Louis listens hard enough, and the much closer sound of Olive roaming around somewhere beside them and crunching leaves with her little paws can be heard easily.

This doesn’t distract Louis as he continues to pull at Harry’s lush lips with his own, his fingers splayed across the boy’s jaw as he sits in his lap and forgets where they are altogether.

The only thing that seems to draw them apart is Olive being the attention seeker that Louis loves, and crawling into Harry’s lap, causing the boy to pull back with a breathy giggle.  He looks down at her as Louis rests his head on the boy’s shoulder, and he doesn’t hesitate to pet at her fur like he’s begun doing so much lately, as though it’s ingrained in him.

“A lot has changed,” Harry says quietly, the movement of his fingers growing slower as Louis watches him stroke her fur.

Louis moves one of his hands up to caress the boy’s ear, letting his fingers trace the edges of it.  “Like what?”

“Well, at the beginning of this, Olive seemed like she was ready to give me rabies,” Harry replies, causing Louis to chuckle as he slides his hand under Harry’s hoodie in order to stroke at his collarbone.

“I also wouldn’t have dreamed of showing my face at a party, let alone actually _enjoying_ one,” Harry continues. 

Louis remains quiet, finally settling his hand loosely around the boy’s neck as he continues to rest his head.

“Never thought people would actually…” he noticeable fights not to wince as he speaks, “acknowledge my existence.”

He’s treading troubled waters right now, and Louis doesn’t feel too great about where this is going, so he holds onto Harry just a tad bit tighter.

Harry’s head shifts just a bit so he can look at Louis, their faces in close proximity and their eyes focused.

“But like… _before_ that party, before I punched that pathetic bloke, before I even dragged you into that closet like a madman,” Harry continues, laughing only slightly.  “When you stumbled across me in the middle of the night, hiding after feeling terrible about doing what I need to do to survive…you immediately noticed me.  I’d never even talked to you or looked at you, and I was pretty sure that was the same way everyone was towards me, but you immediately knew who I was, and I didn’t t know how to feel about that.”

“I have a thing for always noticing the people that go unnoticed,” Louis says.  “Because I know how it feels.  I used to be one of them before I learned to embrace myself.”

“And I never want you to stop,” Harry replies, leaning down and nudging his forehead against Louis’.  “Promise me.”

Louis strokes the tips of his fingers over Harry’s bottom lip as he nods, attempting to brush off how…weird his words sound.  “Promise.”

Harry slips his eyes shut as their foreheads continue to rest against each other, and he opens and closes his mouth a few times, clearly struggling with what to say next.

“People are like…” Harry starts, bringing his voice down to a whisper.  “More people are beginning to notice me.  They say hi to me in the hallways, call me by my _name_ , ask me about personal stuff, and some even invite me to hang out.”

Harry begins messing with some leaves on the ground next to him, his fingers restless and in need of something to fiddle with.

His voice is even lower and quieter when he speaks again.  “…and, I’m pretty sure you know that I haven’t _always_ gone to school with you.”

Louis nods faintly, his eyes watching every movement of Harry’s lips.

“The last school I went to, the same thing happened.  Teachers started worrying about me because students kept speculating about how I didn’t eat, which only made things worse when they didn’t have any way to call my ‘parents’ because I couldn’t provide information.  People kept looking at me crazy everywhere I went…it was bad.  So I left town.”

Harry breathes deeply, his hands continuing to slowly work through the leaves as Olive purrs from where she’s gone over to mess with a small branch a few feet away.

“I just…I wanted to do this whole _vampire_ thing while still attempting to be normal by going to school, because I want a future like everyone else,” Harry continues, his eyebrows knitting together slightly.  “But maybe that’s just not possible for me.”

Louis brings the boy closer as he snuggles his face into the boy’s neck, closing his eyes and desperately wanting to stop all of this self-depreciating nonsense.  “It _is_.  You can’t give up just because of a minor blow.”

“It’s either that—giving up—or…or trying again,” Harry replies. 

Neither of them say a thing following Harry’s sentence, Louis simply allowing the words to settle in the air around him, forcing him to interpret what they mean.  It takes him a while to actually give _in_ to assessing what they suggest, because he doesn’t want to.  He doesn’t even want to _guess_ what they imply.  He just wants Harry with him, and happy, and— _fuck_.

“I don’t know if I can stay here,” Harry whispers.

This is what causes Louis to sit up in Harry’s lap, joining his hands together behind the boy’s neck as he looks down at the dark irises within the boy’s eyes in the middle of the night.

“Well what about your schoolwork?” Louis asks, his voice bordering on pleading.  “You can’t just ditch them and switch to another school.  And what about Olive, she’s _just_ started to finally warm up to you and what about _me_?” Louis asks, his words coming to a weak end as his breaths become a bit more shallow, as though air is escaping him.

Harry’s jaw goes tight as he stares back at Louis, and there’s so many words to be said, they both know it, yet they just stare gently at each other as though it will temporarily resolve everything.

Louis’ voice is small and frail when he opens his mouth again, his voice hardly discernible over the slight whistle of the air.  “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“You know that’s what I’ve been thinking about most,” Harry says as he locks tired eyes with him, one of his hands coming up to grip the crook of Louis’ elbow.  He shakes his head for a moment as he sighs, appearing to be torn and conflicted and frustrated and all of the above.  “I just…I don’t know.  I have to place things in order of importance.”

“Well what’s more important to you?” Louis asks, not missing a beat.

He knows it’s selfish, wanting so desperately for Harry to decide that it’s him, but he can’t help it.  Even surrounded by people, Louis’ always felt as though he’s been alone for as long as he can remember.  He’s never had anyone so in touch with him, open to who he was, willing to fight for him no matter how difficult it became, and he can’t just fucking _lose_ him like that.  How is he going to go back to before?  He has _nothing_ to look forward to if this boy in front of him decides to up and leave.

Louis doesn’t get to receive a solid answer, because it happens again. 

Harry’s head moves sharply and Louis goes completely still in every inch and corner of his body.

He immediately feels Harry’s hands pushing at his waist, urging the boy to get away from him.

“Please, go babe,” Harry mutters, his stare going manic as Louis shifts in order to get off of him, keeping his eyes glued to the boy’s every move.

The boy’s hands are moving so fast they become a blur as he blindly reaches behind himself for the rope rested against the ground.  Louis doesn’t even get to register how he manages to tie it as the boy’s hands move with abnormal speed.

“Go _home_ ,” Harry says, his voice a bit harsher this time.  “Cover your room and stay safe.”

Louis nods vigorously, not having the strength to resist moving forward in order to hug the boy one last time before leaving, intent to let him know through his warm embrace that it’s okay.  Harry doesn’t get to return it, due to the restraint of his hands, but he burrows his face into the crook of Louis’ neck for a moment as the boy holds him.

Then Louis pulls back, getting up to his feet as the boy’s spasms pick up speed.  Harry won’t even look at him anymore, as though he hardly even realizes that he’s there, but Louis chooses with much difficulty not to dwell on it before walking over to where he’d rested his bike against a nearby oak tree, Olive not too far behind him.

“C’mon Olive,” Louis whispers as he bends down and gathers his cat into his arms, before gently placing her in the basket attached to the front of his bicycle.  He fights the urge to look at Harry again as he slides onto the seat, and with one gentle inhale and release of breath, he rides off.

He tries his best to suppress the image in his mind that’s trying so hard to make itself seen at the current moment.  _He has to do it.  It’s fine.  He’s fine._

Louis’ not too shaken by riding home alone, because there are kids out and about at every corner, and also, Liam hasn’t popped up in quite a while.  For all Louis knows, the boy has probably disappeared for good upon realizing Harry can defeat him and he doesn’t stand a chance.  He still pedals with purpose, however, because he feels the urge creeping on him to turn right back around and comfort Harry through his uncontrollable state.

He continues to try and wrestle the thought away, instead focusing on the wind through his hair and the mechanic sounds of his wheels turning as he makes his way down the mildly steep hill of a nearby neighborhood.

Louis’ so lost in his conflicting thoughts and emotions that he doesn’t realize how unnecessarily fast he’s accelerating down the hill.

He lets up a little on his pedals, intent to slow down a bit in order to keep from scaring the daylights out of Olive.

It takes him a while to realize that his wheels continue to move at the exact same speed despite his attempts to slow them down.

Louis moves his feet in order to ease on the wheels again, but it doesn’t work.  In fact, the wheels begin turning _faster_.

Eventually, Louis completely removes both of his feet from the pedals, but they continue to move as though they have minds of their own.  The hill Louis’ riding down definitely isn’t steep _enough_ for Louis to now be soaring down the road at maximum speed, so there’s no doubt that this is the result of a horrible, relentless presence.

His bicycle accelerates at a dangerous speed as Louis literally takes the time to brace himself for it, Olive’s almond eyes going wide as they dart at her surroundings.

Louis thinks for a second that maybe the only option is to jump off, but it seems as though that could end horribly for him, due to his lack of both coordination and timing.  He instead chooses to cross both of his arms over his face, terrified beyond compare and far from ready for whatever’s about to happen as the wind hits his skin viciously.

Then, his bike comes to a stop.  A _sharp_ stop.

The stop is so harsh and sudden that naturally, his bicycle tips over and Louis flies out of it before being thrown brutally over the rough concrete of the street, moaning in agony once his abused body finally stops rolling over the pavement. By the time he's finally motionless and able to catch his breath, he's already beginning to feel a burning pain in his right arm.  His face had also hit the ground fairly hard, and when he pulls his head away from the concrete with anguish, he’s not surprised to find a thick blood spot where he once laid. He’s wincing in pain as he brings his hands out in front of him and takes in the fact that he’s covered in deep, fresh scratches from the fall, along with major discoloration in his bruised knuckles.

Louis doesn’t spend too much time worrying about it, however, before moving in order to get away as quickly as possible.  A part of him doesn’t know why he tries to run away anymore—Liam will literally find him _anywhere_ —but he still does. 

He’s far too weak and bruised to even stand on his feet, so he settles on crawling as fast as he can out of sight. A few young girls dressed as princesses stare at him confusedly as they stroll down the sidewalk with baskets in hand. 

He hears the soft sound of Olive mewing as he crawls, and he turns his head in the direction of it to find her just a few feet away, in far better condition than Louis, due to the fact that she’d most likely jumped out of the basket just in time.

Louis has to blink back tears as he seeks a hiding spot behind a jeep that’s parked on the curb, and as he continues his painful crawling, he brings a hand up to the spot of his head that’s particularly agonizing, and isn’t surprised to find an alarming amount of blood upon his fingers and gliding down the palm of his hand.

Louis rests his back against the car as he brings his knees up close to him, knowing that all he has to do is prolong this situation for as long as it takes Harry to show up.  Harry can sense him, and he’ll come.  _It’s okay_ , he tells himself, even though the pain that comes about every time he moves his body an inch suggests otherwise.

So Louis sits there, quivering from both the cold and what’s to come, and he’s growing frustrated because of the fact that Liam won’t just show his face already.

Louis twists his torso just a bit in order to peek past the bumper of the car he’s against and make sure Olive’s okay, and he finds that she’s burrowed herself near a bush.  She’s always been a smart one.

Louis breathes a sigh of slight relief as he turns back into a regular position, but he doesn’t get to inhale again before there’s a hand around his neck.

The boy’s hand is merciless and firm as he keeps it tight around Louis’ neck, and initially he has Louis pinned against the car, but he puts forth more power until the boy is shoved against the ground, his head smashing into the concrete beneath him as he attempts fruitlessly to get Liam’s stone cold grip off of him.

“You didn’t think you were actually going to get out of this, did you?” Liam asks with a disgusting laugh as he digs his fingers further into Louis’ neck.

Louis’ wheezing and still trying his hand at gasping for air, but it’s no use—the boy is _completely_ blocking off his airflow, and Louis’ beginning to feel dizzier with every passing second.

Louis’ frail fingers continue to dig at Liam’s hand to no avail, and there comes a definite moment where he's certain these are his last seconds.

“On second thought, this is too easy,” he hears Liam say, although he barely grasps it because of how close to unconsciousness he is.  The removal of Liam’s hand takes him a while to register, and Louis hadn’t even realized his eyes had slipped shut until he pulls them open with much effort.

The shadowy figure of Liam leaned over him is both horrifying and relieving, because it reminds Louis that he _isn’t_ dead, but there’s obviously still more to come.

“I like to think that I’m a bit more creative than that,” Liam says as he strokes his own chin.

Then, he moves over to the car that’s parked on the curb, getting his hands up under it as Louis continues to refill his lungs with oxygen through harsh coughs and ignore the throbbing pain in the back of his head where Liam had drove him into the ground.  

With the effort of any normal person lifting a plastic crate, Liam lifts the jeep off of the ground with alarming ease, the insufferable creaking sounds of metal and shifting gears pervading the air as the boy grips it from underneath.  It doesn’t even look like he’s putting forth any strength as he finally hoists the heavy vehicle up in the air, his arms outstretched above him and hands flat underneath it as Louis gawks up at it in horror.

He makes an attempt to sit up in order to scoot out of the way, but he doesn’t know _where_ to go.  Liam’s eyes are following him with every half inch he moves, and the boy is taking a few steps back in preparation for what’s most likely going to be him _throwing_ the car at Louis and crushing him to pieces.

Louis just _now_ registers the innocent screams of children as they become aware of the spectacle, and in his peripheral, he can see several kids running in the opposite direction, most likely to find their parents or flee back to the comfort of homes.  Because they can actually _escape_.  Louis can’t.

Louis’ sure his eyes are bigger and more dilated than they’ve ever been as he watches Liam literally _rise_ off of the ground, the jeep still high in the air above him as the wind begins to pick up as it usually does when the boy is around.  The heaviness of the wind is harsher than all the previous times, causing street signs to detach from the ground, Louis’ bike to go soaring down the street, and dust to fill Louis’ eyes.

Liam’s still rising into the air, the large shadow of both his figure and the vehicle he’s hauling beginning to cast itself over Louis in a way that’s beyond intimidating.

And Harry’s _nowhere_ to be found.

Louis’ pretty sure the boy is almost fifty feet up in the air as he squints up at him, and he resembles the exact image of a real life _super villain_. 

“That’s better,” Liam says smugly, and Louis knows with no doubt that this is it for him.

Harry had tied himself up.  There’s a reason why he does that, and Louis’ certain he does it in such a way that won’t allow him to escape even if he tries.  There’s no hope.

Louis just grits his teeth as he scratches his fingers against the concrete underneath him, bearing no other outlet. 

He just hopes Harry understands that he helped Louis in a way no other person could’ve ever dreamed to, that he’d provided him a beautiful sense of company, even if it _was_ for only a few weeks, and that Louis loves him like no other.  He prays that Niall and Zayn understand that Louis really _does_ appreciate them and the effort they put forth in order to make him feel as though he was apart of something.  He’s so fucking _sorry_ that he couldn’t find it in him to open up and tell them about any of this, and he hopes they can find it in their hearts to forgive him in his wake.

With a deep breath and one last hoist of the car up in the air to get it steady, Liam prepares to throw the huge, massive, _deathly_ thing in Louis’ direction, and Louis shuts down all over.

Liam gets intercepted by a harsh force the same second that he finally fixes his flexed muscles in order to throw it.

Harry.

It’s a lot for Louis to process within just a few seconds, because Liam actually _does_ hurl the giant thing in Louis’ direction, it’s just that Harry appears in the air out of _nowhere_ and tackles the boy right to the ground in the exact same instant, and Louis doesn’t know what to _focus_ on.

Both Liam and Harry are headed for the ground from a dangerous height as gravity seems to finally come into play.  Louis watches with huge eyes, and they hit the concrete so hard that Louis’ certain even _Liam_ is feeling massive amounts of pain.

Louis’ so focused on watching them literally _wrestle_ on the extreme other side of the road, Harry’s eyes now fully black, just like the other time Louis had witnessed him like this, that Louis completely forgets that Liam had definitely _thrown_ the car at him, and—

It’s taken quite a while to crush him.

This brings Louis to look up, and to his utter bewilderment, the vehicle appears to be suspended in the air, directly above him.  It’s literally _dangling_ there, and the only person Louis can think of who could possibly be the cause of this strange occurrence is Harry.

Louis slowly scoots out of the way as the volume of Liam cursing in the air and what sounds like Harry growling like a lion continues in the background, and he moves until he’s completely out of the shadow of the jeep.

That was easy.

It also makes him go soft inside at the fact that, even though Harry is in a completely different state of mind right now, there's obviously a prevalent portion inside of him that is focused on keeping Louis safe, even if that portion may be relatively small.  It _does_ seem as though his concentration on keeping the vehicle up _and_ fighting off Liam at the same time is faltering a bit as the thing begins to shake in the air, one of the wheels falling off of it and rolling down the street. He can't even begin to imagine the magnitude of the headache the boy probably has right now, and in a sort of bittersweet way, it's endearing. 

Louis begins feeling as though he’s resting on a cloud as he thinks about it, and he’s almost beginning to forget about the pain he’s in.  His mind is becoming really _hazy_.

Actually…he’s getting lightheaded.

Louis hadn’t even been thinking about how much blood he’s losing due to the gash on his head, and before he’s even thinking about it, he’s laying himself against the ground with dazed eyes.

He now has a sideways view of Liam and Harry, and it’s almost a blur.  The only thing he can be sure of are their screams.

“Just give _up,_ Harry!” he can hear Liam shout at an ear-splitting volume.

In the blur of Louis’ vision, not much can be truly seen, but one thing is certain.  Harry is absolutely _ruthless_ with Liam.  The boy’s strength seems to have quadrupled as he shoves Liam against a truck, creating a massive dent in it, before Liam lunges at him and throws him to the ground.  In Louis’ weakened sights, it even seems like Liam is growing more… _transparent_ than before.

That’s a good thing.  Obviously, a really good thing, but Louis’ losing lots of blood and suddenly he doesn’t even have the strength to keep his eyes open anymore.

Louis winces at the sound of the car finally dropping to the ground in a deafening crash, just a few feet away from where he lays.  Just _now_ the car alarm begins to beep endlessly, contributing to the migraine that has already begun to form around the back of Louis' head.

His eyes are mere slits when he catches sight of Harry, a knee deep in Liam’s back as he continues to twitch and remain blank behind the eyes, and he has a firm grip on Liam’s head, one arm wrapped around his cranium and the other around his neck.

And then Louis’ not exactly sure what happens—he doesn’t know what Harry _does_ —but Liam…goes away. 

It’s not the regular, usual thing that happens when Liam vanishes into thin air with a swirl of wind left behind him, but it’s almost like…he _disintegrates_ into millions of glistening, translucent pieces, and it’s the last thing Louis sees before he shuts his eyes.

Instantly, it just feels like Louis can breathe a little better, like there’s been a humongous weight lifted off of his aching shoulders that he thought he’d never get rid of.

He rolls over onto his back, and he’s not quite unconscious yet—he’s fighting his hardest in order to stay awake, because although Harry’s actively just saved his life, the boy isn’t in his right state of _mind_ , and—

He can hear the harsh swiftness of the boy’s footsteps as they start in Louis’ direction, and the only thing Louis’ low amount of strength allows him to do is shake his head.

The front of Louis’ sweatshirt is violently pulled and the boy is forcefully jerked forward, before he feels Harry’s face in the crook of his neck—and it’s not the same gentle, comforting gesture as earlier, just before Louis had left him.  Nowhere _near_ that.

“ _Harry,”_ Louis attempts, forcing his eyes open as he grips at the boy’s shoulder and the caresses the back of his head.  “It’s me.  _Harry._ ”  Louis’ voice is hanging onto a thread as it quivers, and there are definitely tears flooding out of the corners of his eyes as Harry buries his face deeper into Louis’ neck in one sharp motion.  “ _Harry!”_ Louis finally manages to yell, his voice echoing for a while as the fist Harry has in his shirt begins to tear apart the fabric of it.

Harry’s breaths are heavy as he huffs in and out, and Louis slowly moves his hand that’s on the back of the boy's head in order to bring it to his cheek, but the boy doesn’t react to it.

Louis brings his tone down to a mere shaky whisper.  “It’s _me_.”

They’re suspended in a moment where either Harry’s going to snap and sink his teeth into Louis’ neck, unable to stop himself from murdering the boy, or he’s going to choose not to give into it, which Louis isn’t even sure is possible.

Louis' pretty sure his heart beats precisely in time with every second it takes for the love of his life to determine his own fate. Enough time passes for Louis to grow convinced there's no hope, and then—

The boy’s cheek moves just half an inch to the right, and he’s—he’s _leaning_ into the touch of Louis’ palm against his cheek.

A shallow breath of relief escapes Louis’ mouth as he moves his head back in order to get a glimpse of his boy’s face, and Harry’s eyebrows are drawn together with internal conflict, his eyes still nothing but black holes.  His face twitches for half a second as Louis drags his thumb across the boy’s cheekbone.

“Harry,” Louis breathes, bringing his forehead to rest against Harry’s.

After what seems like an eon, Harry finally blinks, and his eyes no longer bear that horrifying, lifeless black.  They’re now back to the comfortable green that Louis’ so in love with.

Louis can’t help himself when he pulls the boy all the way in, holding him tight as Harry finally brings his arms up to wrap around Louis’ waist.

“Oh my god,” Harry breathes against Louis’ cheek, his hands pretty much roaming Louis’ body as though he’s not sure if the boy is real.  His hands feel around the boy’s  waist, slide up his back, caress his cheek, run themselves through his hair—he just embraces Louis with a whole new level of enthusiasm.

“You fucking—“ Harry starts, before cutting himself off by pulling his face out of Louis’ shoulder and placing an eager kiss against his mouth.  “You—how did you _do_ that?” Harry asks breathily, before catching Louis’ lips between his again.  “I fucking—I _love_ you—“ another kiss—“holy shit, how did you _do_ that?”

“I-I don’t know,” Louis replies, his fingers still trembling as he barely cups the back of Harry’s neck.

With brisk movement, Harry pulls away from Louis and begins taking off his hoodie, and it’s only slightly mystifying how easily he rips the cloth apart before setting a torn piece of the sleeve against the gash on Louis’ head.

He gestures for Louis to hold it in place, and Louis does exactly that with weak fingers as Harry rips away another portion of the fabric and proceeds to wrap a long piece around Louis’ forearm, which…he didn’t even know had been bleeding profusely as well.

“He’s gone,” Harry tells Louis in a calm, reassuring tone, probably after noticing how badly Louis’ still shaking.

Louis nods his head halfheartedly as Harry ties and secures the fabric around Louis’ arm, before replacing Louis’ hand with his where the boy is still treating the deep cut upon his head.

Harry takes a moment to observe Louis as the boy remains useless and shaken.

“You’re shaking so much…” Harry says, his eyes slowly coming back up to meet Louis’ after they’re done surveying the boy’s body.  “Liam’s gone.  It’s over.”

“I-I’m fine,” Louis replies with a slight grin.  He makes the mistake of flinching only _slightly_ when Harry reaches for his arm again, and it instantly causes Harry to pull his hand back, a sprinkle of hurt behind his eyes that Louis wants to get rid of so badly.

“You’re…” Harry whispers, and his words are mere breaths as he leans further away from Louis.  “You’re scared of me…”

“No—no I’m _not_ ,” Louis replies, even though by the way Harry’s head shakes slightly, he knows his words are all but convincing.

 Louis’ _not_ scared of him.  He can’t help that he’s still unnerved from the fact that the boy had been buried in his neck, only half a second away from devouring him and putting an end to his life in the blink of an eye.  It’s something that’s sure to shake up even the most stone cold of people.

Louis still loves and trusts him like no other, but he can’t deny that Harry’s presence is mildly frightening right about now.

Harry’s lips remain parted as Louis continues to tremble, and the amount of hurt behind his features, along with a flood of devastation, upsets Louis’ heart.

“Harry…” Louis starts through lidded eyes, but the strength in his voice fails as his entire being finally decides to check out.

The last thing he feels before slipping into a state of unconsciousness is Harry’s arms curling themselves up under him, preparing to lift him away.

All goes black.

 

~*~

 

Louis’ better now.

He had to have some stitches and he’s pretty sure some of the minor bruises on his body are never going to go away, but he’s still better.

At least physically.

He hadn’t seen Harry again since that night.   Not in that special back corner of English class that Louis had gotten so accustomed to looking at, not in the hallways discreetly making his way to where he needed to be, not where he lived when Louis frequently went alone to go see if he was there.  Nowhere.

Louis’ devastated, of course he is, but this is obviously something Harry felt he had to do.

Clearly, he decided other things were more important than continuing to risk his life for a boy that he felt was scared of him.  And Louis _was_ —but only on that _night_ , due to obvious reasons.  Why couldn’t the boy comprehend that?

Despite whatever frightened nature Louis had exhibited that night, after all the time they'd spent together, the intimate ways in which they became closer, the nights spent comforted by the sound of each other's beating hearts, Harry should've _understood_ that Louis was willing to overcome it. That he'd literally promised to always be Harry's place of comfort, and he intended to stick to that promise no matter how hard it would get sometimes, but obviously that wasn’t enough for Harry.

It’s late in November when Louis’ clad in a heavy winter jacket, Olive rested in the frosted grass next to him as he holds a lighter between his two hands.

He’d just taken all of his rusty spell books, his voodoo crap that’s starting to creep him out anyway, anything Harry'd touched—his dream catchers, bed sheets, the jacket he’d let Harry wear, anything he _himself_ had been wearing when the boy touched him at any given point, and even Olive’s collar, and he’s lit it all on fire.  The reflection of the growing flames burns in Louis’ eyes as he continues to stare at the beauty of it, one hand holding the lighter and the other in Olive’s fur as she watches the sight with unmoving eyes.

This isn’t being done out of bitterness, or anything of the sort.

It’s being done in remembrance, and to give Louis peace of mind.

After watching the fire for a few longer moments, Louis finally puts the lighter down and decides to snuggle up to Olive, leaning down and resting his head gently against her fur.  He tries to ignore the stinging behind his eyes associated with the threat of tears.

“Maybe he’s the kind of person you’re meant to meet once and never again,” Louis says softly, and Olive mews in what seems like her form of agreement.

Months pass, and there’s still no Harry.  Zayn and Niall have given up on asking about him, as well as trying to get Louis to admit that he’s sad about it.  Several students that Louis’ never spoken to have come up to him asking about the boy, and Louis has no answers for them.

Winter ends, and then comes spring.  No Harry. Spring ends, and then comes summer.  Still no Harry.  Louis’ thoroughly convinced the boy was simply an invention of his colorful, lonely mind.

 

~*~

 

Louis’ sleepy eyes take him quite a while to blink open as he yawns, scratching at the side of his neck where he feels a crick beginning to form.

He lifts his head up slowly from his backpack that he’d been laying it against, and it seems that the sun had just come up not too long ago, due to the fact that the birds are making pleasant sounds and the sky is at that point where it’s almost a pure blue. 

Louis had slept in Harry’s home, which was something he’d begun doing frequently.

As dangerous as it probably is, it’s the most comfortable place Louis has nowadays.

He curls up into the ground, sleeps next to Harry’s tree, and usually dreams of the boy lying next to him.  He’s not sure if it’s actually helping anything, or simply making things worse.

Louis stretches out his arms as he sits up, and he takes several moments to rub at his eyes before he finally pushes himself up to his tired feet and walks his way over to his bicycle that’s laid against the oak tree.

It’s officially a year since he’d first seen Harry, and it’s all he can think about as he pedals home.  As always, he completely avoids the route in which he’d encountered Liam on Halloween night, because even as long ago as that was, it still gives him chills.  It also reminds him of what gave Harry the final push to leave.

Louis sets his bicycle to rest against the mailbox once he finally reaches his house, knowing that Olive is probably roaming around his room, bored and waiting to be fed again.

He grabs one of her stainless steel bowls off of one of the higher racks in the pantry before heading towards his room, already hearing noises coming from behind the door that indicate Olive is probably scratching things up.

Louis opens his door in preparation to tell her off, but his words get caught in his throat.

His eyes open and close a few times as he struggles to grasp what he’s seeing right now.

Harry’s there. 

He’s _here,_ in his room, sitting on his windowsill with Olive in his lap, and with every second that Louis just gapes at his presence, the corners of the boy’s lips begin to slowly creep upwards.

Louis’ left hand continues to grip the doorknob, and he doesn’t know what to say, mostly because he doesn’t know what this _is_.  It could just be another goodbye—or even _worse_ , it could just be his imagination.

“I’ve been waiting for hours,” Harry says, Olive gracefully hopping out of his lap and onto the floor as she makes her way towards Louis’ feet.

Louis’ head shakes slightly in disbelief as he watches Harry brace his hands against the windowsill before sliding down.

“Remember when you asked me what was more important?” the boy asks, the mere sound of his voice beginning to bring Louis a sense of comfort he hasn’t felt in a while.

Louis nods wordlessly.

Harry’s fingers are fumbling with each other in front of him as he leans his back against the window, eyes struggling to stay focused as he voices his words.  “Can it be both?”  The softness of his eyes finally come up to stare directly into Louis', and his words are even softer.  “I want it to be both.”

Louis drops both Olive’s steel bowl and his backpack he’d had hanging off of his right shoulder before striding forward with purpose in order to crush Harry in the warmest embrace he’s ever given.  The boy’s hands immediately come down to his waist, hugging him in close as Louis wraps his arms around the back of his neck and strokes his fingers through the boy’s hair in the way he knows he’s always liked it.

“I hate you,” Louis mumbles into the material of his (new, yet same colored) hoodie, the wetness of his tears beginning to stain it as his heels lift off of the ground.

“I know,” Harry replies, his voice muffled from the way he’s buried in Louis’ shoulder.  “I needed time.”

Louis rubs his hands up and down the boy’s back, through his hair, caressing the back of his neck, and he can’t believe this is real.  Tears won’t stop flooding in his eyes.

He pulls back in order to press his head against Harry’s, the boy’s thumb ghosting across the skin right under his shirt. 

“I’m not scared of you,” Louis breathes desperately.  He allows his eyes to meet Harry’s, even with how close they are, and he fights with everything in his gaze to let the boy understand the sincerity of his words.  “I can ease you out of it, remember?  You can control yourself around me.”

Harry simply nods, his eyes falling shut as they both seem to get lost in the blissful feeling of being with each other once again, just like it should be. 

Louis doesn’t allow himself to think about the future, the past, what drove Harry to leave, what drove Harry to come back, he just chooses to be in the moment as he lets his delicate fingers spread over the side of his boy’s face.

He relishes as much as he can, every day Harry spends with him, the boy waiting on him by their tree once Louis gets out of school. He allows himself to fully immerse into every last moment he spends picking out the details of Harry’s gentle eyes before he falls asleep, the boy’s gaze helping to lull him. He fully savors the feeling of Harry wrapped around him whenever they ride together, the boy like a comforting presence around Louis as his arms hold him close. Louis knows that it’ll all eventually come to a stop at some point, but that doesn’t matter.

It becomes clear that Harry can’t stay, because he’s already established another life somewhere else, and there’s clearly a catch to the decision he’d made to choose “both”.

They’re laid down in the woods as the evening grows near, bundled in thick blankets Louis had dragged from his room, and Louis’ peppering the boy’s face with gentle kisses as a few multicolored leaves fall from the trees and onto the ground around them.

Louis’ swimming in Harry’s hoodie, his eyes hardly peeking out from under the fabric of the hood over his head, and it’s working wonders in order to protect him from the chill of late autumn. 

He feels Harry’s tender fingers come up to card through some of his strands of hair, moving them behind his ear, and Louis fixes his awed eyes on him.

“October will be ours, okay?”

Louis touches his nose against Harry’s, his hand tracing down the pale skin at Harry’s bicep as he nods.  “I’ll be sitting in my bedroom waiting for you every year.”

And with that, he closes the space between their mouths and catches Harry’s awaiting lips between his.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :,)


End file.
